Long Live the King God Help England
by muchbeddled
Summary: With newly crowned King John wrecking havoc on England, Robin leads his men trying to stop evil. But how can he keep peace at home, with his pregnant wife Marian wanting to join them? Sequel to The Return of the King, or stand alone story.
1. Chapter 1

"Not bein' funny, but you're more tightly wound than a ball of yarn. You want me to get one of Old Elspeth's cats in here, to unravel you?"

"No cats," Robin answered absently, unable to take his eyes off the upstairs landing of his house. "Marian doesn't like them."

The "gang," minus Djaq, had gathered in Locksley Manor to wait alongside Robin while Marian labored upstairs, giving birth to the couple's second child under Matilda's expert care.

Djaq was at home, caring for her twins and Robin and Marian's toddler Ellen, who was no trouble at all, even for a two-year-old. Robin missed her.

Ellen was a "perfect" little girl, smart and sweet and beautiful, at least, in his and Marian's eyes. So perfect, in fact, that both parents hoped for a boy this time around, since no other little girl could compare to their "Ellie." But mostly, Robin just wanted a healthy baby, and a quick and safe delivery.

Childbirth was a woman's battlefield, Robin couldn't help thinking, nervously gnawing his thumb, his mind far away on Marian. Matilda had assured him it would be easier the second time, but he still felt helpless, banished from his wife's side, flinching every time he heard her scream.

To take Robin's mind off his worry, Will kindly asked, "Have you decided on a name?"

The untouched flagon of ale in Robin's hand sloshed and spilled over its rim, as he spun around to face his friends. Immediately, Much was there, to wipe up the spill.

"Name?" Robin repeated, blankly.

"Yeah. You know," Allan grinned, amused by Robin's fogginess, "like, if it's a boy, you'll name him Guy."

"Guy, we do not like!" Little John bellowed, while Much, holding his breath, waited for his former master to explode.

His fears were unfounded, however, for Robin was too worried to react. "We'll call him Richard," he answered, his voice untypically soft and breathy, for somehow, speaking had become a chore.

"After the King!" Much proclaimed, as if the name needed explanation. "I knew it! Well, the late king, anyway. No offense, John, but Robin would never name a child after you, not with the current king on the throne. It's treason, I know, but I wouldn't be surprised if the name 'John' dies out completely, unless the sycho...sycho...sychophants continue to curry favor by naming their children-"

"Shut up!" Allan ordered, having heard enough.

"What about girl's names?" Will asked, drawing part of Robin's attention away from the birthing chamber.

"We haven't agreed," Robin confessed. "But we're thinking, either Catherine, after Marian's mother, or Maude, after mine."

"Nice!" Allan approved. "I've bedded lovely ladies with both those names!"

When Will shot him a glare, he added, "What? Not at the same time!"

Will heaved an exasperated sigh, providing an opportunity for Much to voice his opinion. "I must say," he began, "I vote for Maude, after your mother. I mean, you wouldn't really want to name your child Catherine now, would you? Think of the trouble it would cause, with you shouting, "Kate! Come to supper!" out your door, and having, you know, the _other_ Kate show up, not that she doesn't darken your doorstep enough as it is, already!"

At that moment, the sound of a lusty infant cry was heard from above, bringing smiles and congratulations to erupt below. Robin had a trace of tears in his eyes when his friends clapped him on his back, but he pushed them aside, to race up his staircase to meet his new child and kiss his wife.

...

"She's a robust lassie, I'll give her that, and nearly as much trouble as you were," Matilda told a proud Robin, as he held his new baby daughter in his arms.

Marian was spent, having suffered through a painful birth, but her face shone with love and pride, watching her beloved husband smile at her over their child.

Neither parent remembered they'd been hoping for a boy, not after taking one glance at their new daughter.

"It's lucky she made it out in one piece," Matilda fondly scolded Lord and Lady Locksley. "If you ask me, it was only by the grace of God!"

"Was it that hard?" Robin worried, breathing a grateful prayer for Marian's survival.

Matilda chuckled. "Her birth? You were worse, as I remember. No. I was referring to you two, living the life you've been, during the pregnacy! Think you're cats, with nine lives, do you?"

"I hate cats," Marian lied, weakly.

"It wasn't so bad!" Robin declared, defending them both. "Somebody had to do something to protect England, with our 'beloved' King John on the throne!"

"And who better than Robin Hood and Maid Marian?"

"Don't forget my 'merry men,' " Robin said with a smirk, kissing the bald head of his infant, before handing her back to Marian.

Matilda snorted. "Merry? John's about as merry as a grumpy bear with burrs in his coat!"

"Hey, Matilda!" Robin objected, his customary swagger restored, now that all was well in Locksley. "I don't write the ballads."

"No, but you live them! My advice to you two, not that you'll heed it, is to slow down. You've got little ones to think of now. Like I said, this one's only here by the grace of God. What are you calling her, by the way?"

Marian didn't hesitate. "Grace," she answered, gazing with pure love and joy into the red, wrinkled face. "Her name is Grace. Is that alright, dear?" she finally thought to ask her husband, as if he could deny her anything at that moment.

Grinning broadly, hands on hips, he proudly announced, "Grace it is! You've always liked that name, as I recall."

"Let's hope 'Grace' can teach you two some sense," Matilda scolded, affectionately knocking Robin on the side of his head. "I'll leave you three alone now," she added, gathering her things. "Congratulations."

"Can you ask Will to bring Ellie home?" Robin asked, hardly being able to wait seeing his other daughter greet her new baby sister.

Matilda nodded, then stepped into the hallway, happy at the sight of so much peace and domestic bliss in the manor. Closing her eyes for a moment, she thought, "It hasn't always been so, during this pregnancy. Oh, no! It's been one harrowing adventure after another!" On her way down the stairs, she began recalling all the danger the family had thrown themselves into.


	2. Chapter 2

**Locksley-6 months earlier**

The entire village surrounding Locksley Manor seemed asleep, when Robin returned home from a two week absence at King John's Court, currently stationed at Oxford.

He hadn't intended to arrive in the dead of night, but with home drawing nearer and nearer, and his stallion showing little signs of tiring, Robin pushed himself and his horse eagerly homeward.

"Here you go," he said soothingly to his mount, giving him an extra bucket of oats after rubbing him down and watering him. "You've earned it."

Silently entering his house, Robin took the stairs two at a time and pushed open the door to the nursery. The old nurse Mattie snored softly in her bed, but Robin ignored her. He'd come to see Ellen.

His little girl slept soundly on her back, arms bent upward so that her tiny fists framed her face. Robin grinned adoringly at her, then tiptoed to her bedside to plant a kiss on the top of her head, inhaling her hair's sweet fragrance. He felt he could stand here watching her sleep all night long, if his yearning for someone else in his house didn't draw him away. But knowing that Marian lay in bed only a few rooms away was enough to cut this nocturnal reunion short.

Moonlight bathed his wife's sleeping face, tinting her flawless, creamy skin a soft silver.

Hurredly undressing, Robin climbed into bed beside her and snuggled up close, breathing out a long, deep sigh of contentment.

Marian stirred and awakened, at first believing she was dreaming. When she knew it was no dream, she rolled over, threw her arms around her husband's neck, and kissed him heartily.

"You're back!" she cried happily, and then, in surprise, "What happened to you?"

"What do you mean?" he asked, unable to stop smiling or rubbing his hands up and down and over her, at last resting one on the small bulge beginning to grow on her belly.

"I can understand you shaving your beard, but your head? Robin!"

Remembering, he drew one hand over the top of his head, feeling the bald spot at its crown. Grinning wickedly, he teased, "Never thought you'd be in bed with a priest, did you, my love?"

"Don't be blasphemous. Tell me what happened."

After several more kisses, they both knew his story would have to wait. Robin vaguely realized he hadn't bolted the door, but nothing would propel him to leave the bed now, not even if it caught fire, which seemed a highly likely possibility.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he panted, staring awestruck at her lovely form after she pulled her nightdress over her head and flung it away.

"I'm glad you did."

Afterward, lying blissfully in his arms amid the tangled sheets, Marian asked again. "Now, Locksley," she murmured, between soft pecks on his face, neck, and chest, "tell me why you returned from Oxford, looking like a priest."

His eyes lit up wickedly, like no priest's ever should. "Because, my love," he said, hiding a yawn, "I decided to take holy orders."

Leaning up on one elbow, Marian slapped at his hand that was fondling her breast, effectively stopping that action.

Robin chuckled.

"Oh, how I missed you, Marian!"

"Are you going to tell me the story?" she demanded impatiently.

Pulling her on top of him, he kissed her fully on her mouth, slowly, tenderly, with none of the urgency of a few moments before.

After the kiss, she layed her cheek on his chest, over his heart, listening to it slow to its regular rhythms, and sighed, her impatience temporarily quelled.

"I still want to know," she told him.

"Can it wait?" he asked, blinking back sleep. "It's a good story. I want to do it justice."

Disappointed, she felt she had little choice but to agree. "Alright, Handsome. But you're going to have to wear a hat, you know, until your hair grows back."

"I already thought of that," he said, not even trying to cover his yawn this time. "Do you know whether we still have any hoods around here?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Greek Fire," Robin panted, flinging himself back on the pillows, exhausted but smiling.

Marian was smiling, too. The bustling sounds throughout their house and yard alerted them that Robin's overnight return had been discovered, but they weren't quite ready to get up yet.

"What about Greek Fire?" she asked, her dimples deepening as she guessed his meaning.

Gathering her to him, he ran his fingers through her hair, his face alight with happiness. "Vaisey wouldn't have needed to search for Lambert's ledger," he teased her, bragging, "if he'd known, all he had to do was lock me up with you!"

Marian, grinning proudly, snuggled closer. Reaching for his hand, she moved it down so that it covered her belly, and gently kissed him.

"It's good to have you back," she sighed.

"It's good to be back. In fact, it's very good!" He kissed her breathlessly, then, touching his nose to hers, asked, "How are you feeling?"

"What do you think?"

His grin turned sheepish. "I mean, my love, while I was away. Still no morning sickness?"

"None at all! I feel wonderful. Just a bit more tired than usual, is all."

"Got to be a boy, then! I told you, boys are easier than girls!"

"You're the expert now, are you?"

"How's Ellie? Did she miss me? I bought her something at a fair. Look, I'll show you."

Robin's excitement reminded Marian how boyish her husband could be at times, and she enjoyed it, knowing him also to be thoughtful, kind, and fully capable to handle any situation. Her appreciative eyes drank in his strong, handsome form, as he made his way across the room to dig through a knapsack he'd carried on his trip.

Seeing him from the back clearly showed the small shaved spot on the top of his head, called a "tonsure," worn by men in holy orders.

Sitting up and trying to untangle a sheet to partially cover her, Marian gave up and called out, "Robin! You promised to tell me why you shaved your head!"

"I didn't shave it all," he snickered, swaggering back towards her with a small stuffed horse in his hands. Tossing it onto her lap, he eagerly asked, "Think she'll like this? You're gorgeous, you know, Marian."

"She'll love it."

Marian felt a warm glow as she looked at the brown leather toy Robin had bought for Ellen. Its eyes were painted on, and it boasted a thick mane and tail made of flax, with no parts small enough for their fifteen-month-old to choke on.

Sitting down beside his wife on their bed, Robin bragged, "She'll be as fine a horsewoman as you one day!"

"We'll just have to wait and see," Marian answered. "But I want to know about this haircut of yours!"

When she reached up to vigorously rub his stubbly bald spot, a scuffle ensued. But Marian held herself back, refusing to even let him kiss her, until he'd told his story.

"Alright, you win," he laughed. "I'll tell you." Handing her a robe, he explained, "You know, of course, King John has a new chancellor."

"Continue."

"Well, judging from John's past appointments as prince, I doubted I'd like him. And I decided, the best way to judge a man, is to learn what his wife thinks of him."

Marian lifted her eyebrows and stared inquisitively at her husband, not sure she liked what she'd just heard.

"Go on," she said tersely. "I assume the wife is middle aged, and matronly."

"No, she's not. She's scarcely nineteen. Some might call her a beauty, if you like that sort."

"What 'sort' is that?"

Robin snickered, amused by Marian's jealousy. "You, my love, have nothing to worry about! She can't touch you, in any regard. She's not only pale and wispy, she's somewhat stupid."

Marian smiled, satisfied. "You don't sound very chivalrous, Locksley."

"Sorry. I'm telling you the truth. Do you think I should have a bath?"

"You need one. You smell like horses. Luckily for you, I happen to like horses." Wrapping her arms around his neck, she coaxed, "But go on. Tell me the rest."

"Horses?" He sniffed, and joked, "All I can smell is roses. But, alright! When I arrived in Oxford, I heard James Fitzhugh, the new chancellor, was hosting a party at his house. As Earl of Huntington, I was invited, but I thought I could learn more about the man, if I went in disguise."

"So you went as a priest?" Marian was incredulous.

"A humble monk, rather. I didn't want to draw attention to myself."

"And you spent your time at the party, talking to Fitzhugh's wife."

"Annora, yes."

Marian, pulling away, shot him a furious glance.

"Marian! I told you I went as a monk! There was a reason I chose that particular disguise. I knew, if I went as myself, I could charm the silly girl and learn all I needed to, but I'm a happily married man. I chose a monk's disguise, because of you."

Marian trusted his intent, but not this Annora. "Take your bath," she advised. "It's time we were up. You may tell me the rest, over breakfast."


	4. Chapter 4

**Oxford**

Annora Fitzhugh, pulling her cloak more tightly around her thin frame, distressingly stepped over mud puddles and garbage littering the city streets, as she hurried toward St. Michael's Church.

She felt driven to come here and seek relief, one way or another. She hoped with all her heart it would be by finding the monk she sought, not merely confessing her yearning for him.

She had met him at her husband's party, less than a fortnight ago, and hadn't been able to sleep or eat well since.

Brother Robert...what eyes he had! What a young, strong body, only partially hidden under his coarse monk's cassock! What grace, as he moved! His voice was like thick golden honey, and when he smiled...! He alone, of all the men in the world, had delved into her loneliness, and seized her heart! If it was a sin to love a monk, so be it! She was blessedly young...Hell would be decades away. Besides, she couldn't seem to help herself.

The only child of a wealthy cloth merchant, Annora had been spoiled with goods her father could afford, rather than parental attention. Whatever she'd asked for growing up, she had been given, so that she was now under the impression she could have whatever struck her fancy. And goods, as much as she liked them, had long ago lost their luster.

She was bored, wed to an ambitious, cold hearted widower with children older than herself.

At first, she had been thrilled by her marriage. Her wedding had been spectacular for one of her station, causing her friends to go green with envy. Her husband, still handsome at forty-seven, seemed the very image of urbane sophistication. He had truly wanted to marry her, making her forget the string of young, foolish men whom she thought had captured her heart.

But several months of marriage had destroyed her dreams of happiness.

She had traded an absent father for an absent husband. Other than the few nights James would visit her bed, and puff and pant over her, taking so long she'd almost fall asleep and want to beg him to hurry up and finish, she could see little change in her life from before she had been married. But at least, while she was still an unmarried maiden, she could dream of a handsome hero who would come upon her one day in the marketplace, or spot her sitting demurely at her prayers in church, and they would fall in love. A hero, such as the bold and brave Robin Hood, whose ballads she couldn't get enough of.

But all her bright young dreams had died, under the yoke of marriage.

Her friends still envied her, for her husband, just as her father had done, let her have anything she wanted to buy. She was expected to dress well, and look divine, to be a credit to her husband, and further his career. And only recently, he, sprung as she was from merchant stock, had been named by King John, Chancellor of England!

Chancellor's wife! Annora was pleased by that prospect. Thrilled to be able to travel to all the English Courts, and lord it over actual ladies. Perhaps, one day, she'd even be a lady herself, if the king would grant lands and manors to her husband!

But her excitement over travel had changed, that fateful evening she had met HIM.

She recalled being proud of her new silver tissue gown, with the pink silk lined hanging sleeves and the low cut bodice. Her husband had approved her appearance, but once the guests began arriving, he was too busy plotting to pay her any more attention. And nobody else had seemed interested in her, either.

Annoyed, for after all, she was hostess at this party, Annora had stood awkwardly against a wall, not knowing what to do, and wondering which of the nobles was the Earl of Huntington, rumored to be the real life Robin Hood. In her eyes, none of them measured up to the dream her imagination had conjured.

"It's very kind of you to open your home to us," an attractive male voice said softly, intimately, at her elbow. "At least, I assume you're the lady of the house. I have heard, after all, she's very beautiful."

Annora had spun around, dropping her goblet when her eyes met the incredible blue ones staring back at her.

Both of them kneeled to the ground, picking up slivers of very expensive broken crystal. "Allow me," the man had said, with a grin that slayed her. "I wouldn't want you to cut yourself."

As if in a dream, she rose to her feet and watched him. Only then did she realize he was a monk!

A servant hurried forward to clean up the mess, allowing the two of them to retreat to another corner of the room, one cloaked in shadows, as if he didn't want them to be seen. Annora's heart fluttered wildly.

"You're a monk!" she said at last. "My husband didn't invite a monk!"

"I'm here on behalf of my abbot," he explained. "Unfortunately, he is ill, but resting comfortably. Which means, I have been given the blessing of enjoying your hospitality, as well as meeting you! I'm called Brother Robert, by the way, Mistress."

She couldn't seem to take her eyes off him. He was better than any dream she'd ever imagined, except for the shaved top of his head, or his monk's robe.

"Annora," she breathed, forgetting her small supply of manners. "My name's Annora."

"Lovely."

They didn't speak for several moments, but Annora didn't seem to notice. His eyes spoke volumes. At last, he broke the silence by saying, "Your husband is a very lucky man."

"Have you ever been in love?" she asked.

A shadow passed over his face, turning it even more incredibly handsome than before.

"Beneath my monk's robe, lies a broken heart," he confessed.

"No!"

"I've never told anyone before. It's too painful to speak of. But, somehow, Annora, you're different. I feel I've known you all my life."

"I feel that, too! Who broke your heart?"

He sighed, so sadly, Annora almost wept, if she hadn't been so ecstatically happy and excited. "I vowed never to speak her name. She was far too good for me. You see, I loved her since we were children, and pledged to marry her, but I broke my promise to fight the infidel instead."

"You were a Crusader? How thrilling! I guessed as much! Your muscles! I mean...tell me more about your lost love! Was she fair, like me?"

Annora could tell from looking at him, he hadn't gotten over his love. He was still smitten, despite taking holy orders. He would never forget the woman, whoever she was.

"Her hair was dark," he waxed poetically. "Her eyes blue, her cheek soft and creamy. But I can't speak of her, to anyone. It hurts too much. Tell me, are you in love with your husband? What is he like?"

She frowned. "Cold. Rich. Greedy. But how did you lose her? You told me, you went off to war. Didn't she wait for you to return?"

He merely shook his head, his eyes downcast. Annora felt she'd do anything to bring the smile back to his face. "Is that why you're a monk now?" she asked.

"How well we know each other," he sighed, gazing again into her eyes, slaying her anew. "Loving her as I did, I knew I could never give my heart away again. And so, I turned my life over to God, and I find a small degree of solace, serving Him."

"How tragic!"

"It's a good life. I only hope your life is satisfying to you, Annora."

She wanted to weep. Weep, and sing, and shout for joy. She began telling him everything about her, things she'd never confessed to anyone before. And he seemed truly interested, especially when she told him of her current life, as James Fitzhugh's wife.

No one had ever listened to her as he had listened! No one had ever connected to her the way he had! And since their meeting, all she could do was think and dream of him, longing to meet him again!

She found pleasure at last in the marriage bed, closing her eyes, pretending it was HIM who puffed and panted and grunted over her. So much pleasure, in fact, she'd gone to her husband, hinting to him of her newly awakened desire. But he had scolded her, telling her he was busy, then gave her a coin so she could go to the marketplace and buy some trinket.

Instead, she found herself hurrying to Saint Michael's Church, praying that she would meet Brother Robert again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Locksley, the following Sunday**

"I knew I'd find you here!"

Much, after searching for nearly an hour, at last came upon Robin, Marian, and their daughter Ellen on a grassy bank beside the river Trent.

The family was obviously enjoying a picnic, for an old blanket was spread upon the ground, and on it was a hamper containing fruit, meatpies, hardboiled eggs, and tarts. Much's mouth watered.

"Care to join us?" Robin called to his friend, delighted to see him. "We haven't eaten. Been too busy picking flowers and chasing dragonflies!"

Much snorted with laughter. "Picking flowers!" he scoffed. "If only Gisbourne could see you now! Oh! I shouldn't have said that!"

Marian rolled her eyes, and Robin, after sucking in an angry breath between clenched teeth, forgave Much's slip of the tongue. "Don't ruin a perfect day, reminding me of that viper," he cautioned.

"Sorry! It just came out!" Much, plopping down on the blanket, asked, "When do we eat?"

"Now seems like a good time," Robin grinned, sweeping his daughter up into his arms and carrying her toward the blanket. "Hungry, Boo?"

Much answered for the child, the grimace on his face showing how disgusted he was. "She appears to be, the way she's chewing on that toy horse you gave her."

"She's teething," Marian explained, defending her darling daughter.

To Much's alarm, Ellen crawled onto his lap and generously held out her toy for him.

"Oh, no!" Much objected. "I'm not touching that!"

"Just take it, Much," Robin ordered.

"What a good girl!" Marian exclaimed, full of praise. "You're sharing!"

Much's lips were pursed, his eyes squinting, as he tried to pull away. "That's fine," he said, nervously. "You keep it. I have a real horse!"

"Share," Ellen said sweetly, pushing the slobbery wet object into Much's face.

"Oh! That is revolting!"

Robin's eyes twinkled with fun, but Marian took offense. "Come here, Precious," she coaxed. "I'll share with you."

Once the child and her nasty toy were safely away on Marian's lap, Much remembered, "Is it safe, you know, to have a picnic?"

"Safe?" Robin asked, laughing. "What, Much? Do you expect something dangerous to happen, just because it's me?"

"No, Smarty Pants. I mean, because it's Sunday! We're not supposed to have picnics, on Sunday. HE might be watching!"

"I hope He is!" Robin grinned. "We attended mass. Now, we're eating, is all. Don't forget, Much, He's the one who made the day so perfect for a picnic."

"Yes. Well. That may be true. But all the same, we're not supposed to have fun, you know, on the sabbath."

Marian, hiding her annoyance, quoted, " 'The sabbath was made for man, not man for the sabbath.' "

"What?" Much asked, flabbergasted.

"Marian's right," Robin told his friend.

"Oh, no," Much objected, shaking his head. "I don't think so!"

"It's from the Bible, Much," Robin said, still grinning. Pointing upward, he teased, "_He_ said it."

Much's jaw dropped open. "Unbelievable!" he cried. After a few moments of hesitation, he finally grabbed a meat pie and shoved it into his mouth.

"Who wants to bless the food?" Robin asked, laughing when Much suddenly spit out his pie.

"Sorry, Lord!" Much cried.

Marian rolled her eyes again. "You say it, Handsome. After all, you're the one who looks like a priest."

"Monk," Robin corrected, with a wink. Pulling his hood back to respectfully uncover his head, he began, "Gracious heavenly Father-"

"Unbelievable!" Much couldn't help exclaiming. "You're...you're bald!"

Robin shot Much a look, making his friend clap his hands together and bow his head.

When the short prayer was over and Robin had drawn his hood back over his head, Much sputtered, "Wha-wha-wha-What happened to your hair?"

"Long story," Marian answered, breaking Ellen's pie into small pieces.

"I did it when I was in Oxford," Robin explained, "as a disguise. I needed to learn what sort of man England's new chancellor is."

"Speaking of him, have you heard?" Much asked, confused but satisfied by Robin's explanation. "He's here."

"Chancellor Fitzhugh?"

Much took a large bite and swallowed. "This is the best meat pie I've ever tasted!"

"Much, what about the chancellor?"

"Oh. Yes. He arrived last night. He's at the castle."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Are there any more pies?"

"Did he bring his wife with him?" Marian coyly asked. "Annora," she added meaningfully, giving her husband a challenging smirk.

Robin shook his head, puffing the air from his cheeks.

Much, licking his lips as he lifted another pie from the hamper, said, "She came along, so I've been told. She wanted to see Nottingham. Get this, she's said to be...what's the word I want that means you love something?"

"Adore," Robin told him, gazing in that manner at Marian and his daughter.

"Not that one," Much complained. "It means you're full of love for something."

"Enamored?" Marian suggested, barely hiding her impatience.

Much's eyes lit up. "That's the one!" he cried, pointing at Marian. "Yes! She's said to be enamored of Robin Hood!"

Marian turned curious eyes on her husband.

"The stories, I mean," Much anxiously hastened to clarify. "Not, you know, him."

"That remains to be seen, doesn't it?" Marian replied, smiling challengingly at Robin.


	6. Chapter 6

Robin wished he had three hands as he walked home from his picnic, just so he could hold one of Marian's. His two were being used to carry their sleeping daughter and the picnic hamper. Marian held the much lighter blanket.

He could only guess how hard it was on Marian, not being allowed to ride Llanrei, or any of their horses for that matter. And at this early stage in her pregnancy, while she still had a spring in her step, he knew she preferred walking to riding in their carriage.

Arriving home, he was surprised to see another carriage parked in front of their house.

"Now, who can that belong to?" he quietly asked, failing to recognize it.

"Why don't we go see?" bold and practical Marian suggested, stepping around him.

The carriage obviously belonged to someone of wealth, but not nobility. No arms decorated it to announce its owner.

Robin kept step with his wife, and was met by several of their flustered servants, rushing to meet them. Carefully handing Ellen to Bridget Thornton, he asked her to find the nurse Mattie and lay Ellen in her cradle for the rest of her nap. Mary took the picnic hamper and the blanket, but not before complaining, "We tried to keep her out, Master Robin, but she refused to heed us!"

"Who refused?" Marian asked.

Thornton appeared, looking distressed. "I'm sorry, Master," the old man said. "The woman showed no manners."

"What woman?" Marian's impatience threatened to flare.

Thornton's answer, so unexpected, silenced Marian for the time being. "Mistress Fitzhugh, the Chancellor's wife, is here, milady, taking herself on a tour of your home!"

"What happened, Thornton?" Robin asked, gently entwining his fingers through his wife's and leading her to their house.

Thornton, relieved the master had returned home, tried to explain the uninvited "guest's" behavior. "The young woman arrived by carriage, as you can see," he began, his tone indicating how little he thought of her. "She asked whether this was the home of Robin Hood, and when I told her you did indeed live here, she delightedly charged past me and entered the house, uninvited."

"So she's sightseeing," Marian correctly guessed, finding her tongue, at last.

"She refused to listen to me," Thornton replied, visibly shaken, "and is traipsing from room to room, touching things, as if the manor were a curiosity shop!"

"Keep her out of Ellen's room," Robin ordered.

"With respect, Master, that is easier said than done. None of us could keep her out of the _house_, after all."

"I'll keep her out," Marian vowed, squaring her shoulders.

"You heard my wife," Robin said, grinning. "Tell everyone to relax. We'll satisfy our 'guest's' curiosity, and send her on her way. No harm done."

Thornton, breathing a sigh of relief, hastened away to assure the rest of the servants that all was well.

If it hadn't been for his servants' alarm, Robin would have found the situation amusing. In fact, part of him still did. Marian, too, was somewhat amused.

"So," she said, "how are you planning to explain to Annora, that Robin Hood and her priest are one and the same?"

"Monk," he corrected with a wink, as they walked together through their home, looking for the intruder.

...

They found Annora in their bedchamber, eagerly looking through Marian's gowns.

Her back was to them when they entered, and Marian's second thought was to wonder how such a slight, insignificant girlish form could have pushed her way past all their servants, and made herself such a nuisance. Her first thought was, "How dare you touch my things?"

"Excuse me," she said, her regal tone so icy it could freeze a day in August, "may we help you?"

Annora spun around, crying out, "Are you...are you truly Maid Marian?"

Marian, hating that name since she'd been a child, lifted her lovely eyebrows and quickly sized up this invader.

She saw a girl whose chief attractions were her costly gown and jewels, long silvery blond hair, extreme youth, and air of helplessness. Instantly, she hated her.

How dare this merchant's daughter barge into her home, upset her servants, and touch her belongings, as if her home was open for display?

Noticing Annora was clasping a priceless vase passed down in Robin's family from generation to generation, Marian ordered, "Put that down, before you break it!"

As if on cue, Annora dropped the vase, shattering it. But she barely noticed. Her eyes had locked onto the man standing in the doorway.

She couldn't believe what she saw. Time seemed to stand still, while her heart pounded in her ears.

He had found her, or she had found him. It mattered little. All that mattered was, she was once again staring into the incredible blue eyes of the man she loved.


	7. Chapter 7

"Well!" Robin said charmingly from his doorway, "I seem to have an odd effect on you! The last time we met, you dropped something as well, as I recall."

Annora could only stare back at him, transported to the world of her dreams. She watched as he entered the room, moving with that grace that was all his own, and saw him speak quietly to the woman she'd forgotten. Her heartbeats pounded and fluttered so wildly, she couldn't hear a word he spoke, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered now, except that she'd found him.

Robin, having seen the look on Marian's face when Annora dropped a priceless family heirloom, was trying to quietly appease her.

"It's alright, my love," he said assuringly, taking her aside after politely excusing themselves from their "guest."

"No, it's not! How long has that been in your family? It survived even...even Gisbourne's stint in your home. And now, this chit of a girl..."

"It's alright. People are more important than things."

"Some people are! Not merchant's daughters, who-"

"Shh."

"Don't shush me, Robin! And don't even think about lecturing me about one man being much like another! Bloodlines matter, for all your lofty ideals."

"I thought they were _our _ideals."

"You would assume that."

"What's this really about, Marian?"

His direct question made Marian flinch. She didn't feel threatened by that insignificant, baseborn chit, surely! But she was justifiably angry that a stranger would invade their home, upset their servants, and destroy their property.

"I want her out, Robin," she told him. "You may find it fun, playing games with her, but I don't."

Robin, staring deeply into his wife's eyes, began to understand her anger.

"Alright," he agreed. "No more games. I'll tell her who I really am, and show her the door." He paused for a brief moment, then quietly asked, "Truce?"

"Truce."

The warm flush glowing on Marian's cheeks echoed that beginning to course through Robin's veins, making him even more certain there was one person too many in their bedchamber. He couldn't be quick enough to show Annora the way out.

"Sorry about that," he said to the lovestruck girl, returning with Marian within earshot. "In fact, I owe you more than one apology, it would seem."

Annora, breathing in little gasps of air, finally managed to squeak, "How did you find me?" The scene still seemed so unreal and magical to her, she didn't even notice "Brother Robert" was dressed in the clothes of a layman, holding that other woman's hand.

"It would appear you found me," he answered with a grin. "May I introduce you to my wife? This, Lady Locksley, is Mistress Annora Fitzhugh, wife of our latest Chancellor. And this, Mistress, is my wife."

"Your wife?"

Annora's knees buckled, as the color drained from her face. "But, I thought...you're not a monk?"

"That's the reason for my apology," he answered lightly. "I only wore that disguise to do a bit of sleuthing, that night at your husband's party. I'm sorry I deceived you."

"But..." Trembling, Annora stepped forward, reached her thin arms upward, and slid his hood back from his head. "But, your hair!"

Robin slid one palm over the top of his head. "It's beginning to grow back," he grinned, apologetically. "It itches."

"I need to sit down," Annora gasped, and instantly, found herself supported on one of his strong arms. When he'd helped her ease herself onto a seat and released her, she instantly felt the loss of his touch.

"I feel like I'm drowning," she almost wept.

Marian rolled her eyes, having little sympathy for fools. Especially pretty girls, who were so obviously foolish over her husband!

Impatient for the silly girl to go, Marian told her, "My husband is Lord Locksley, Earl of Huntington and lord of this manor. You are trespassing. If you want to explore the former haunts of Robin Hood, I suggest you take an armed escort into Sherwood Forest. You wouldn't last a day alone in those woods."

Ignoring her, Annora gazed open mouthed at Robin. "You're Robin Hood?" she cried, all her dreams coming together in one glorious rush. Screaming, she leaped to her feet, and only just stopped herself from throwing her arms around his neck.

"I was," he said, taking the slightest step backward.

Annora's heart began hammering in her chest. This was gloriously too good to be true! He wasn't a monk! He was Robin Hood, her hero made flesh! And then, she remembered the woman he'd introduced as his wife.

_He was married! He was married! NO!_ But then again, so was she, she realized, and it was nothing to stand in the way of her happiness.

Slyly, Annora turned her eyes to look upon Maid Marian, whose beauty was as legendary as her exploits. Was she with child, or only a bit heavy? Either way, Annora was sure she was a shrew. Just look at the way she'd argued with him! Annora hated her, more than she had ever hated anything in her life.

She was determined to steal him away from his sharp tongued wife. After all, she was the chancellor's wife now! She could have anything she wanted. And she'd never wanted anything so badly as she wanted him.

Whatever it took, lying, stealing, anything! She was determined to win.


	8. Chapter 8

"Well," Robin said smugly from his bed, kissing Marian tenderly on her lips. "That was some nap."

"Nap?" she asked, her eyes shining. "I thought it was an apology."

He chuckled under his breath, and kissed her again, heartfully. "If so, I should wrong you more often! It would seem then, Lady Locksley, that I'm forgiven?"

"Hmm," she responded, stretching luxuriously in his arms. "Completely."

The early afternoon sun streamed through their window as they lay entwined together in bed, surprised by their passion that wouldn't let them wait until nightfall.

They knew from experience, their passion would slowly cool as Marian's pregnancy progressed, to be replaced by another kind of love, every bit as sweet and fulfilling, though not half as much fun. And so, for now, they were glad to have seized these precious moments alone, after escorting that silly wife of England's Chancellor out their door.

Realizing their daughter would soon be up from her nap, as well as having a household of servants speculating about what was keeping them, Marian kissed her husband one last time and sat up, saying, "I love Sundays! Will I have to do penance, do you think?"

"Only if you confess," Robin snickered, admiring the voluptuous curves on her unclothed body. "My conscience is clear."

In their world, they'd committed a sin by lying together, since the Church taught they should only engage in that activity for purposes of procreation. Of course, it also taught they shouldn't have enjoyed a picnic today, either.

"Mine, too," Marian realized. "I won't then."

"Good," Robin grinned, leaning up on one elbow to lightly caress her gently swelling abdomen. "I wouldn't want you to make Tuck blush."

"Grow up, Locksley."

Her dimples deepened, and she gave the top of his tonsured head a vigorous rub. "For good luck," she teased him, rising to get dressed.

Robin threw himself back on the pillows and watched her. "You're gorgeous, you know, Marian."

Pulling her gown down over her head, she asked, "Am I? You don't think I look like a cow?"

His grin widened. "A cow? Hardly. A horse, now..." He smirked, wickedly.

His cheekiness was punished by her seizing a pillow and playfully beating him with it. He managed to grab it out of her hands and fling it aside, where it landed on top of the bits of vase broken earlier by Annora.

"I have never met such a foolish girl!" Marian mentioned, angrily.

"What about Kate?"

"Well, that goes without saying. But at least Kate can fight. There was no excuse for that Annora to charge in here, and break your family heirlooms!"

"Come here," Robin invited, loath to see her go so soon.

Marian, fully dressed, climbed back into bed, and into his arms. "You know, Wren," he gently told her, drawing her close, "there are going to be a lot more things broken around here, when we fill the house up with children."

"Ellen hasn't broken anything."

"Well, Ellie's special. I was told I was a whirlwind, when I was small."

"A one boy destruction crew. I remember one time my father brought me to visit, and your father sent you out in the rain to play."

He chuckled again. "The last straw was after I knocked over a scuttle of ashes Mary was saving to make soap. But I also remember you that day, sneaking outside to play with me."

"And ruining my new dress."

His adoring gaze intensified."God! I love you, Marian."

They kissed with passionate tenderness, long, slow, lingeringly.

"We need to get up," she reminded him gently.

He sighed, drowsy and content. "Alright," he agreed, summoning his unending supply of energy. Already, he was looking forward to playing with their daughter.


	9. Chapter 9

Tormented by flashbacks of Acre, Robin was jolted awake and lay gasping for breath, while Marian slept peacefully by his side. His heart was pounding and his body glistened in a cold sweat as he tried to literally shake the images from his mind.

He wanted to reach for Marian and hold her, but he knew if he did, she would awaken. And in her condition, Robin felt she needed sleep more than he needed comfort.

Still panting, he sat up on the side of the bed and slid his feet to the floor.

It had been awhile since he'd suffered such a nightmare, and he'd hoped he might finally be free from his tortured dreams. The last time he'd endured one had been the horrible day he'd received news of King Richard's death.

So why now? Why tonight, after such a nearly perfect day?

Since they'd begun sharing a bed, Marian had persuaded him to confront his dreams, rather than push them aside, as a means to eliminate them. And although he had at first resisted her suggestion, he'd found it really had helped. He'd come to realize there was usually a trigger for bringing on a nightmare, something that had occurred during the day to spark one. But for the life of him at this moment, he couldn't think what it might have been.

He'd been late for mass, but that was nothing unusual. Tuck had merely lifted his eyebrows in warning, as he'd done so many times over the years. And afterwards, he'd enjoyed a picnic with his family, and Much had even joined them. The chancellor's wife had traipsed uninvited through his home, but he'd found that somewhat amusing, other than her breaking things and the alarm it had caused among his servants, still skittish after all this time from their servitude under Gisbourne.

Gisbourne! That was it! Marian had spoken his name aloud, hesitantly, but it had been enough to send his mind reeling back to the dark days when that traitor had dwelt within his home and slept in this very bed.

Fueled by anger at the man who still roamed free, somewhere, Robin rose from his bed and began to pace.

The shifting of the mattress when Robin arose was enough to cause Marian to stir and awaken.

"What is it?" she asked, drowsily.

"Go back to sleep, Marian," he ordered her, his voice cold and metallic.

She knew him well enough to realize he'd been dreaming. He was always hypersensitive about his nightmares, preferring to shove them aside rather than confront them head on, lest he appear vulnerable. But Marian wouldn't let him do that, convincing him it took courage to face his demons, knowing he would never shy away from a courageous act. "I can't very well do that, can I," she said to him now, "with you charging about the room, like a caged animal. Come back to bed, Love, and tell me what's bothering you."

Her tone struck the perfect blend of soothing reassurance and unanswerable command, but Robin, as stubborn as she, refused the comfort she offered.

"Go to sleep," he repeated, before turning on his heel and storming from the room.

Marian, feeling angry and rejected, lay back in their bed, tears prickling her eyes.

She wouldn't cry, and she wouldn't get up and follow him. Just when she'd thought he was willing to open up to her, he shut her out again! Let him deal with his issues himself, if he was so stubborn he rejected her help! Unless he apologized, he'd get a chilly reception from her come morning!

...

Locksley Manor didn't house the only bedchamber engulfed in marital strife this Sunday night. Within the dark stone walls of Nottingham Castle, another couple's marriage faced far more serious troubles than a mere unspoken quarrel.

James Fitzhugh, Chancellor of England, lay silent and unmoving in bed, staring up at the ceiling, while his young wife slept soundly beside him, her long, silvery blond hair fanning out around her.

Fitzhugh was long past the intemperate passions of youth, but tonight, after what had occurred in his marriage bed, he felt his white hot resentment slowly turn to rage.

He knew now why Annora had recently changed.

Until that party at his house in Oxford a few short weeks ago, she had been a submissive but unresponsive bride in bed. But all that changed, the night of the party. Something had awakened the yearnings in her flesh that night...someone...and now, Fitzhugh knew exactly who it was.

Tonight, not even knowing she'd done so, Annora had murmured his name, over and over again, in her sleep. Hell, she'd barely manged to stifle it, in the final moments of passion.

Well, Fitzhugh would face him tomorrow at the Council of Nobles, size up again the bold, smug young noble who'd turned England on its ear, when King John last ruled over its shores as Prince.

The king would be only too pleased, should Locksley be made to pay for all his past thievery.

And so, too, would James Fitzhugh, for he would not abide another man's presence in his marriage bed.


	10. Chapter 10

Miserably unhappy by their unspoken quarrel, Marian tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Slamming her fist into her pillow for the tenth or eleventh time since Robin had stormed from their room, her mood changed abruptly when she heard their baby crying.

Quickly, Marian rose from her bed and hurried along the upstairs corridor toward Ellen's room.

By the time she reached the nursery, Ellen had stopped crying, and was snuggling safe and secure in her father's strong, protective arms.

The sight of Robin, so capable, selfless, and loving toward their daughter, washed away any anger Marian felt toward him. She also realized the only way he could have reached the nursery before she did, was if he had already been there.

Nurse Mattie, woefully accustomed to the lord and lady of the manor rushing to her charge's bedside on those rare occasions when the child cried during the night, sat up in bed, hiding beneath her bedclothes pulled up to the loose folds of her neck.

"My advice to you, my lord, is to put her down and say goodnight. She's a good bairn, but even the best natured ones can turn rotten, from too much spoiling."

Robin, focused on his daughter, ignored the nurse. "It's my fault, Boo," he said, his back still to Marian. "I'd come in here to watch you sleeping, and stumbled over something."

"My daddy," Ellen cooed back, happily.

Marian, longing to patch up her quarrel with Robin, felt the time was right to make her presence known. "How would you like, Precious, to sleep for awhile in daddy's and my bed?"

"Mama!"

Turning, Robin looked untrusting and defensive, but he softened, relieved, when he read the look in Marian's eyes. Ignoring Nurse Mattie's protests, he reached out a hand to brush back the hair falling over Marian's cheek, and tenderly said, "That sounds like a plan."

...

With Ellen squirming delightedly between them in their bed, Robin and Marian spoke softly to one another, stating their apologies.

"Don't shut me out, Robin," Marian begged him again. "I only want to help you."

"I know you do."

"Then why won't you let me?"

Finding it hard to explain, he breathed a sigh. "I guess because...I need to be strong, Marian, especially for you."

"You _are _strong. Don't hide your feelings, from me."

"I've never been much good at telling you how I feel, have I?"

She smiled, then gently told their daughter to lie back down. "You've improved over the years. But, Robin, I've said it before. How can you be a real man, if you don't feel?"

"I feel, Marian, too much, I think. That's why I have to put my feelings out of my mind."

"Your mind, or your heart?"

"Both, I suppose."

Marian looked appealingly into his eyes, understanding him. "You were forced to be strong for your village, when you became a lord, orphaned so young! But you don't need to pretend anything with me. I love you."

"And I love you."

"Tell me about your dream."

He hardened perceptively, under her searching eyes.

"Please, Robin," she begged. "You've seen how it helps you."

"I don't need any help."

When she noticeably stiffened, he said, apologetically, "I did not mean that."

For a short while, they occupied themselves smiling at their child, who was struggling to stay awake. Marian softly sang a lullaby, and Ellen, toy horse clutched in her tiny hands, drifted off to sleep.

"I'll put her back in her cradle," Robin volunteered, and Marian realized he was doing so to escape her "prying" again.

There was only so much she could do, Marian decided, with a sigh. He wasn't going to speak any more about it tonight, and she wouldn't pressure him further.

When he returned alone, she flowed willingly into his arms, kissed him tenderly goodnight, and tried to sleep, content at least they'd mended, though not resolved, their quarrel.

...

The next morning, Much stopped scolding Robin for making them late to the Council of Nobles, when his friend suggested, "When the council's over, Much, why don't we pop into the Trip, and say hello to Allan?"

"Oh, no! You're only offering, to make me stop scolding you."

"If you don't want to go..."

"I'm not saying that! I'm not saying anything!"

Dismounting in the castle bailey, Robin chuckled. "Well, then! I might even stand you an ale."

Much, completely appeased, changed the subject, confessing, "I hate this! I hate it! Do you ever get, you know, nervous, coming back here? Because I get nervous. I keep expecting, you know, Gisbourne, to come striding towards us, sword drawn, and spurs jangling."

Robin clenched his teeth at the mention of his enemy's name. "I'd welcome the sight of him. What I hate, Much, is knowing he escaped, scot free. If I saw him coming toward me now, I'd be only too happy to dispense the justice he deserves."

"Well, yes," Much stammered, hurrying with Robin toward the Great Hall. "Sorry I brought him up. We're still on for that ale, right, Robin?"

It was at this point, the herald at the top of the steps announced their late arrival to the Council.

All heads lifted to watch Lords Locksley and Bonchurch disarm and descend the staircase, but no eyes bored into Locksley as intently as those belonging to James Fitzhugh.


	11. Chapter 11

God had been far too good to Locksley.

James Fitzhugh seethed inside while carefully maintaining his stony, inscrutable expression, watching the young earl swagger down the stairs and fling himself into his seat at the Council of Nobles.

The smile alone the man had flashed at his boon companion Bonchurch was enough to earn him Fitzhugh's unending hatred, a smile that could clearly disarm, bedazzle, or bewitch any woman who saw it. If he were a betting man, Fitzhugh would wager Locksley was well acquainted with its power and used it to good advantage to take whatever he wanted. Annora, young and foolish as she was, wouldn't have stood a chance under its spell.

Add to that, a tall, well built physique that moved with easy, natural grace, overabundant boyish charm, expressive blue eyes that could only be described as "beautiful," a straight aristocratic nose, full lips, a strong chin with an infuriating cleft, and a deep, mellow voice that made all his silver tongued lies sound like gospel, and Locksley would be a danger to any father's daughter, even without his peerless pedigree and vast estates.

Fitzhugh hoped, at least, that the man was losing his hair. He'd never seen him without a hat, and he hated the shade that peeked out beneath it, taking satisfaction in labelling it "mousey brown." His stomach tightened when he noticed how the hair broke into curls at the back of his strong young neck.

Fitzhugh had seen enough. Since God had delighted in showering His creature with such gifts, then it was up to James Fitzhugh, a self made man, a man who'd had to struggle for everything he'd ever achieved, to even the score.

Clearing his throat, he addressed Sheriff Wilfred loudly enough for all present to hear.

"My lord Sheriff, what penalty will you enforce for such blatant tardiness?"

"Penalty?" Lord Bonchurch sputtered. "Wha-wha-wha?"

The wide eyed, anxious man was calmly shushed by his companion, Locksley, who remained amused and nonchalant.

The sheriff, an uncharismatic, mild man, shook his head. "There is no penalty, Chancellor."

"What, none? At the very least, I suggest you demand an explanation! What kept you, Locksley? I've heard you make it a habit to be late. What message do you think that conveys?"

The young man's smugness made Fitzhugh seethe inside. "Sorry about that," he said, overflowing with charm. "No message, _Master _Chancellor. Time just got away, is all."

Much could not let that go, even though he far preferred remaining in the background among the nobility. "We stopped on the way, to help an old, ailing couple," he explained, truthfully.

"Commendable," the chancellor coldly responded. "Still playing Robin Hood, I see, helping the unfortunate. How selfless. Could it not have waited until after the Council?"

"Their hunger could not wait," Robin answered, his eyes hard over the smile still playing on his lips. "I hardly think, Master Chancellor, my Lord Bonchurch and I are so important, the business of the shire need wait on our presence. But," he continued cockily, "since you seem so concerned with time, I suggest we stop wasting it, and go on with whatever you find so very pressing."

Fitzhugh took a deep, hot breath, struggling to maintain his composure. "You will be punished, Locksley, for your tardiness, be assured. Now, as to my presence in the shire, let me be very clear. King John is displeased by the state of his coffers. Our late king, his brother Richard, the so called fabled Lionheart, cared little for this country, choosing instead to deplete its resources to fight wars on foreign soils. Because of his bloodthirstiness, we all suffer."

Fitzhugh paused, pleased with the effect his words had had on the Earl of Huntington. Indignant anger replaced the smug smile he'd worn so tauntingly. Rising from his place of honor beside Sheriff Wilfred, Fitzhugh continued, "As peers of the realm, you have all sworn fealty to our new, glorious king. It is up to you, my lords, to squeeze whatever you can from your serfs and vassels. Whatever it takes, the king expects you to fill his coffers again, and make England strong."

The deadly silence following his announcement was broken by Robin boldly objecting, "England's strength does not come from breaking the backs of Her poor, Master Fitzhugh. We've seen that, under Prince John's regency. Rather, it comes from building up Her people, Her peasants as well as Her peers." Addressing the other nobles, he passionately said, "It is our responsibility, our duty, gentlemen, to help our people, not squeeze out of them what they can't afford. Only then, will England's coffers be rich again."

The other nobles, used to Locksley's inspired rhetoric, shifted uncomfortably in their seats. Locksley had been King Richard's man, favored above all others by the late king. But he was also the new king's hated enemy. They knew, when John became king, it was only a matter of time before Locklsey's idealistic speeches would throw himself back into danger.

England's new chancellor was staring at Robin through narrowed eyes. "You dare to question the king's commands?"

"I haven't heard them yet."

"Perhaps you think your cousin, Prince Arthur, would make a more worthy ruler?"

Robin uttered a harsh, bitter laugh. "Now, Chancellor, why would you risk treason, saying that?"

"Because, my lord Huntington, you'd have a lot to gain, were your cousin on the throne instead of our worthy King John."

"I don't annoint kings," Robin answered, his cockiness restored. "God does."

James Fitzhugh had endured enough. His temper had never been so tested before. How dare this whelp, who'd seduced his wife, appear so smug before him?

"Council dismissed," he ordered, ending the meeting before his dignity deserted him.

He'd make Locksley pay. He'd set a snare for him, and make him suffer for bewitching his most prized possession, his pretty young wife. And, better still, he'd use Annora to do it.


	12. Chapter 12

The chancellor's wife, having no idea of her husband's plans or daily activities, was free to make plans of her own.

Annora's heart was racing faster than her husband's carriage, as she jostled inside it on her way to the village of Locksley.

She was dressed in her finest jewels and silks, powdered and perfumed, eager to see HIM again. She would somehow steer him away from his country bred wife, and their souls would commune together, the way they had at her husband's party, when he'd worn a monk's disguise.

Should she scold him, flirtatiously, of course, for fooling her in that monk's robe? She thought not. Not yet. His wife seemed a big enough scold. Annora would show him, not all women were such shrews. She couldn't wait!

But she would have to. Unbeknownst to her, the object of her desire had passed her enroute, heading the opposite direction astride his spirited destrier, on his way to Nottingham and the Council of Nobles.

Arriving at last at Locksley, Annora looked eagerly about her as she stepped down from her carriage, hoping to see the lord of the manor rushing to greet her. Instead, she found herself staring into the face of his wife, who was balancing a small child on her hip.

His child? The hair was the same, a soft sandy brown. Annora hadn't thought about him being a father. There wasn't any mention in the Robin Hood ballads that she could remember, of a child! She turned fierce eyes on Marian.

"Welcome," Marian greeted her politely, but with unmistakable coldness. "I did not expect to see you again so soon, Mistress Fitzhugh. Did you leave something here yesterday, perhaps?"

Annora frowned, growing flustered by the wife's regal demeanor. How dare this plainly dressed country woman treat the wife of England's Chancellor so...so... Annora couldn't describe the ill treatment she imagined herself receiving.

A child! She couldn't get over it. And the lass on his wife's hip wasn't his only one! The wife, helping some village peasants make cheese, wore an apron tied under her breasts, which clearly showed her condition Annora had only previously suspected.

One child, and another on the way! No! No! It wasn't fair! And his wife...helping to make cheese!

She may have been born to priviledge, and be called "Lady" and "Countess," but who was more finely dressed, Annora was thinking. _Who looks to be the Lady now?_

"Is...is Lord Locksley at home?" Annora asked, more timidly than she liked. Something about the woman's imperial stare made her cower.

"Unfortunately, no. He's in Nottingham, attending a meeting with your husband, Mistress Fitzhugh."

"Oh, no!" Annora blurted out, stamping her foot. She couldn't believe she rode all this way, when she might have seen Him, without his wife, in Nottingham.

Without so much as a goodbye, Annora stepped back inside her carriage and ordered her driver to "make haste" and hurry back to the castle. Marian rolled her eyes.

"Poor Daddy," Marian told Ellen. "He has no idea what he's done."

...

After the disastrous Council of Nobles, Robin soothed Much's anxiety by sticking to his promise of an ale at the Trip to Jerusalem Inn.

Walking into the Trip, they were greeted by the popular proprietor, Allan a Dale, who hooted with laughter at Robin and Much's attire.

"John!" Allan called, drawing Little John's attention. "Take a look at the fine lords!"

Little John smiled and snorted, pleased to see his friends, even if they were bedecked in rich clothing.

Much was wearing a long, blue, richly embroidered robe, but Robin wore his customary ordinary looking clothing, with one exception. To cover the shaved spot on his crown, still not fully grown back, he had borrowed one of Much's elaborate hats, knowing a hood wouldn't have been acceptable attire at the Council of Nobles. He had no problem flaunting authority, if he didn't respect its source, but his manners were polished, and he knew better than to appear too casual.

Allan, delighted to see his friends, couldn't resist teasing them.

"What will your fine lordships have to drink, oi?"

"What do you think, Dunderhead?" Much asked. "All you serve is ale. Am I right? And don't water it down!"

Allan threw up his hands. "What? Would I do such a thing?"

"Two ales," Robin grinned, relaxing in the company of his friends. "No, wait. John, you want another?"

Little John grunted his approval.

"Make it three," Robin said, slapping down a few coins on the table.

Allan straddled a bench and joined them. "Oi, Constance!" he cheerfully called. "Four ales!"

Robin's eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the dimness of the tavern, or Allan would never have beaten his cat quick reflexes and been able to pull the hat off his head. "Oi!" Allan shouted out, spying Robin's priestly haircut. "Not bein' funny, but Marian finally scare you away?"

"Hardly," Robin grinned, grabbing back the hat and replacing it on his head. "I did this," he said, pointing to his crown, "to gather information."

"Nice one! I once shaved the top of my head, too, to gain admittance to a nunnery."

"Spare us the sordid details," Much advised.

"I'm good with nuns," Allan mentioned, with a wicked grin.

A loud clap of thunder made Robin down the rest of his ale. "I'd better go," he realized. "Much? You coming?"

Much, enjoying himself, shook his head. "I think I'll wait the storm out here," he decided. "You go ahead and ride through the downpour, Robin. But I'll take my hat, if you don't mind. No sense in it getting wet."

Robin happily relinquished it and bid his friends goodbye, laughing under his breath while Much told Allan the thunderclap had been due to his boasts about nuns, and Allan's answering argument.

...

He was nearly home, rain drenched and mud splattered, when Robin saw Annora's coach, stuck in a mud rut. Dismounting, he knocked on the door of her carriage.

Annora shrieked twice, first with fright, but then with delight, when she saw his dripping wet face.

"May I be of assistance?" he asked.

"Come in, come in!" she cried, shooing her driver back out into the rainstorm.

Robin objected. "I'll ruin your upholstrey," he explained, politely declining her offer of shelter. "But, if your driver doesn't mind a little rain, he could help me unstick you, and we can all be on our way."

The driver didn't mind. With Lord Locksley providing most of the muscle, they pushed and shoved the carriage out of the mud.

"Thank you!" Annora, heart soaring, bit her lips, then licked them, staring at Robin as he smiled a goodbye and swung himself up into the saddle.

"Turn around," she ordered her driver, as soon as Robin had galloped away. "Drive me back to Locksley."

...

Robin arrived home well in advance of Annora's slow moving carriage, having no idea she would follow him.

To his surprise, Marian came out into the rain to greet him.

"Who's the fool now?" Robin teased, beaming at her. "What are you doing out without a cloak, Lady Locksley? You'll catch a chill, you know."

"Are you saying you can't warm me?" she asked, getting as wet as he, in his arms.

"Is that a challenge?"

They kissed, not minding the rain one bit.


	13. Chapter 13

"We mustn't," Marian objected, wriggling free from her husband's embrace. "What will the servants think?"

"I hope they'll think we're up here playing chess, but I doubt it."

Robin's wolfish grin turned tender, when he noticed how tired Marian looked. "I'm sorry, my love," he said, his voice turning gentle. "Are you alright?"

"Just a bit tired, is all. I helped make cheese all morning."

"Cheese! No wonder you made me so hungry!"

She rolled her eyes, smiling at his cheekiness, then stepped behind a screen to change out of her wet clothes. "How was the council?" she asked.

Yanking off his belt to remove his own wet things, he responded, "Unnecessary. Do you know where Thomas put my dry socks?"

A naked arm appeared from behind the screen, pointing. "Where he always puts them, Robin. But tell me more. I want to know what happened."

Robin, stepping into dry trousers, told her. "I made a new enemy, Marian."

"I assume you mean the Chancellor," she said, appearing fully dressed. Using a towel, she began rubbing the excess moisture from her hair. "Are you surprised, Robin? He was appointed by King John, after all. It was only a matter of time, till you butted heads."

Noticing the worried look in his eyes, she put down the towel, and approached him, saying gently, "Tell me."

Still shirtless, he sat on the edge of the bed and pulled Marian onto his lap. "He told us to 'squeeze' all we can from the people, to fill John's coffers. Who does that remind you of?"

"He can't be as bad as...Vaisey. No one could."

"He's not a maniac. But he's cold, without a conscience, I think. He'd have to be, to do John's bidding. And there's something else."

"Go on, then. Tell me."

Robin sighed, sadly. "I'm a hypocrite, Marian. You know how I'm always telling you, one man is much like another? Well, I made it a point today, to openly mock his birth."

She drew her breath in slowly, and waited for him to explain.

"I made certain to call him _Master_ Chancellor, because I'd learned from his wife how sensitive he is about his origins. He's a tanner's son, who made his money selling hides."

"Well," Marian said at last, "be glad you didn't call him 'Tannerson.' It doesn't change your beliefs, Robin. You only did it to taunt him."

Holding her, he felt overcome to kiss her, and did so, tenderly, holding back the passion he was feeling.

Marian was beginning to regret her earlier refusal, and let him know it by her kiss's response.

A respectful knock on their bedchamber door pulled their lips apart.

"What is it?" Robin called from the bed.

"Excuse me, Master," Thornton apologized from the other side of the door. "You have a visitor." His voice changed, revealing his distaste. "Mistress Fitzhugh has returned again."

Robin and Marian stared at one another, both of them with eyebrows raised.

...

All the way back towards Locksley, Annora had been trying to think up a plan to get Robin alone. The only thing she had come up with was to express a desire to see his horses, hoping his stables would be unoccupied of people.

"What kind of horse was that you were riding again?" she asked, not even having to feign an interest, since every detail of his life now fascinated her. "You rode off so fast, you stole my breath away!"

Annora was sitting across from Robin and his wife beside a roaring fire in his hall, since the rain had brought a chill in its wake. Their daughter sat between them, gnawing on the nose of a toy horse. Removing it from her mouth, she bounced her toy up and down to make it dash away, crying out, "Neigh, neigh!"

Robin laughed and Marian smiled, both of them clearly enjoying their daughter. Annora needed to get him away from this domestic scene.

"Veillantif's a destrier," Robin informed her, winking at Marian, whose love of horses exceeded even his own.

"What a funny name!" Annora exclaimed.

"It was the name of Roland's horse," Marian explained, realizing too late that Annora had no clue who Roland, the legendary war hero who'd served under Charlemagne, was.

"I want to see your destroyer," Annora proclaimed, "though I hope he won't destroy anything of mine!"

"Destrier," Marian corrected, growing impatient. "It means Veillantif's the finest, best bred warhorse available."

"But being a warhorse," Robin cockily added, " 'destroyer' might not be so inaccurate after all!"

Annora did not understand his joke, nor was she in the mood for jests. She only felt he was rescuing her from his wife's disapproval, and she felt it proved his love for her.

"I want to see him," she said again. "Show him to me."

"Alright then," Robin agreed, knowing Marian would also enjoy showing off their horses.

"Mama, pee pee," Ellen suddenly said.

"I'll take care of it," Robin volunteered. "You two go ahead. I'll meet you in the stables in just a bit."

"No, you go on," Marian said, kindly but unwisely. "I'll do it. Come along, Boo, darling."

Annora thanked her lucky stars, or whatever it was that had made the child want her diaper changed, just at that perfect moment.

"You sure you want to go out in the rain?" Robin asked, from the doorway. "You might ruin your slippers."

"Carry me," she breathed.


	14. Chapter 14

"There!" Robin said jauntily, shutting the doors of the stables behind him to keep out the rain. "Wasn't that a better idea, borrowing a pair of boots?"

Annora, wishing he'd carried her, disagreed, but she didn't really care. They were alone, finally alone, but they didn't have much time. His wife might be along any moment.

"Now this," Robin was saying proudly, still under the delusion she wanted to see his horses, "is Veillantif!" Fondly stroking the horse's muzzle, he chuckled. "No, it's only me," he grinned. Turning back to Annora, he explained, "My wife usually spoils them all, with apples."

Annora was staring at him with an odd look on her face, but a sudden rustle in some hay made her leap at him in fear.

"Are there rats?" she gasped.

"No. No rats. An occasional mouse, but not usually this time of year. We ought to get a stable cat, but my wife doesn't like-"

Suddenly, he found himself pulled and pressed up against her, her lips burning against his own.

Stunned, he shook her off and stepped away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He didn't speak, just stood staring at her with his mouth hanging open in surprise.

"So," he managed to say at last, "you didn't really want to see my horse."

"I love you!" she breathed, joyfully.

No matter how many times something like this happened to him, he still had a hard time handling it. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to hurt a woman, and they always got hurt, unless he gave in. Which, of course, now that he was happily married, was out of the question.

"Annora," he began, completely uncomfortable, "I'm truly sorry if I did anything to mislead you to this...point. I love my wife. Please, let's just forget this ever happened, alright?"

"What are you saying?" she asked, her dreams dashed. "No. You love me, Robin Hood! Our souls, at the party...our souls came together! We...we..." She faltered, her lower lip trembling. To Robin's alarm, she burst into tears.

He wasn't sure what to do, his mind quickly replaying the scene at her husband's party. He'd done nothing, he was certain, to make her think he cared. But one thing was sure now...he mustn't offer her the comfort of his arms.

"I'm sorry," he said again, truly meaning it.

Somehow, he felt he must have misled her. She must be terribly lonely and neglected in her marriage to seek affection elsewhere, but it wouldn't do for him to befriend her too kindly, not with her feeling so much attraction towards him. He pitied her, and his heart grieved, but he could do nothing.

He was also annoyed, feeling the insult toward his wife and child. "Perhaps you should go," he told her. "I'll fetch your driver, and your slippers."

Surprising them both, a child's voice piped up. "I'll get them, Master Robin."

"So, you're our mouse!" Happy and relieved, Robin grinned at the boy. "This, Mistress Fitzhugh, is Daniel, our stable boy; once, an honorary member of my gang."

Annora turned aching, red eyes on the boy. He'd been spying the entire time. He ought to be whipped!

Her nose was running, and she couldn't stop crying. It hurt so badly! He didn't want her? Of course he did! He must! She sobbed anew.

"Come right back," Robin told the child, wishing he could go himself. "Here. Take my cape. It's raining, if you hadn't noticed! And when you've done your mission," and he winked, "there's fresh bread and a pot of mutton stew in the kitchen."

"I'll go!" Daniel said, eyes shining, leaving Robin and Annora alone, he feeling awkward, she, wretchedly miserable.

...

Annora's grief continued to swell, once the truth set firmly in. Back in Nottingham Castle, she took to her bed in grief, unable to stop crying.

Alarmed, her serving maid fetched her husband, interrupting him from his duties.

James Fitzhugh felt highly irritated to be called away from important matters by his wife's foolish tears. Nonetheless, he strode into Annora's bedchamber to learn what was wrong.

"What's happened to you, Annora?" he barked. "Look at me when I address you."

He was startled when she rolled over and faced him. Her face, already pale, was pallid. Her eyes were so red and puffy, they were almost swollen shut.

"You must stop this nonsense and tell me what happened," Fitzhugh ordered her. "You will make yourself sick, girl, if you keep this up."

"I can't tell you!" she wailed.

"You must!"

Annora's pillow was wet on both sides, but she couldn't seem to stop crying.

Her husband, almost satisfied, guessed his version of the truth. "He threw you over, didn't he?" he guessed, his voice cold with disdain.

Annora gasped. At all costs, she couldn't let her husband know what she'd done! "No! Who?" she asked, frightened.

"The Earl of Huntington," Fitzhugh coldly replied. "What, girl? Did you think I didn't know? As gratifying as I found your recent passion, I found it less so when you screamed another's man's name in our marriage bed."

Annora stopped crying. She held her breath, frightened what her husband would do to her.

"Don't be afraid, my dear," he told her, cold and threatening. "I know all about Locksley. He seduced you, didn't he, then tossed you aside, when he'd had his fill."

"No, he didn't!"

"He didn't? Don't tell me he forced himself on you!"

"NO!"

"Because, Annora, if he did, you would be blameless, you know."

The only sound in the room came from Annora, sniffling.

She was terrified and confused, believing her heart broken. She didn't speak, but only listened, while her husband wove his web.

"My poor, poor darling!" James Fitzhugh said. "When did it happen, Annora? When did he take you by force?"

She shook her head, her eyes wide with fear.

"A fortnight ago, in Oxford? Or was it here, in Nottinghamshire? Don't be afraid, girl. Tell me everything. No blame will fall upon you. You were an innocent! He was the predator, luring you with his honeyed words, and his looks of love."

"Yes," she whispered, picturing again the sincere look in his eyes, when they'd first met. "He deceived me," she admitted.

"My poor sweet. When did he hurt you? Today?"

"Yes. Today. In his stables, in Locksley."

Fitzhugh sucked in his breath, angry yet triumphant. "My sweet! Rest assured, this changes nothing between us! You are not to blame. Now, tell me again, to seal it in your mind. You will be required, my dear, to tell your story in a courtroom of law, and you must not change a single detail. Do I make myself clear?"

"Courtroom?" Annora cried. "Why? I-"

"Locksley must pay for his crimes, my dear. Too long, he has gotten away with his thievery and brutalities. King John will be only too pleased, when he learns I've got Locksley where he wants him, in a dungeon cell."

"He didn't!" Annora sobbed. "He didn't touch me!"

Fitzhugh clicked his tongue. "Now, now, my sweet! I know it's embarrassing for you. But you must be brave and tell the truth. If you do not, Annora, I fear things will go poorly for you."

Her eyes grew wide, staring up at the cold, powerful, ruthless man she'd married.

"You mentioned his stables," he reminded her. "Tell me, my sweet, what happened there today, to make you so distraught?"

Annora hesitated, then made up her mind.

"He raped me," she told him, dissolving into fresh tears.


	15. Chapter 15

After sending the sobbing, nearly hysterical Annora Fitzhugh on her way, Robin returned to his house to seek out Marian.

He found her lying on top of their bed, not yet asleep, but fast approaching slumber.

"Sorry," she murmured drowsily, nestling against him when he lay down beside her. "I just didn't feel up to entertaining our 'guest.' "

"She's heading home," he gently explained, pressing his lips over her forehead.

Her hair felt like silk; her skin, even more so. Her eyelids fluttered with lashes thick and dark and feathery, like a raven's wing above her flawless cheek. Robin sighed, marvelling again how her beauty, inside and out, could so move him. The desire to protect her flowed strongly through him, warming his heart with unspoken yearnings.

"Where's Boo?" he softly asked.

"Playing, in her room. Nurse Mattie's with her."

"Get some rest," Robin told her, lightly laying one hand on her belly. Impulsively, he lowered his head and placed a kiss where his hand had rested. "You, too," he added, making Marian smile.

...

Supper was a joyous meal, with Will and Djaq and their twins, Daniel and Saffia, being far superior guests to the annoying Annora. Marian, refreshed from her nap, enjoyed learning the few Arabic words Djaq had taught her family, already known to Robin.

"Bismullah," she echoed, lifting her water goblet.

"Now, who could that be?" Robin wondered, when the sound of hoofbeats thundered up to their house.

Before Thornton could reach the door, it was forced open by the captain of the sheriff's castle guard.

"Good evening, McClellan," Robin said, rising, his easy, confident manner contrasting sharply with his body's tauntness. "What brings you to Locksley in such foul weather?"

"Foul deeds," the captain answered, hating his duty. "You, my lord, are under arrest."

"Arrest?" Marian cried, jumping up and grabbing onto Robin's arm. "What do you mean?"

All four former outlaws had to master their impulses to break into a fight. Reminding themselves they were no longer living under Vaisey's evil regime, they resisted the urge.

Wisely, Djaq led the three small children upstairs to the nursery.

"My lord Huntington has been charged with rape, milady," McClellan informed Marian.

"Rape?" she repeated, her tone incredulous. "Don't be ridiculous."

"I never..." Robin's voice trailed off, as he tried to comprehend the false accusation.

"Who made these charges?" Marian demanded to know, as angry as a tigress defending her young.

"It was Mistress Fitzhugh, the Chancellor's wife, milady."

Robin uttered a harsh, incredulous laugh, while Marian, going pale, boldly objected, "She's lying. My husband, as you well know, is an honorable man."

"All the same, my lady, it is my duty to take him to Nottingham, where he may clear his name at his trial."

"There is no need for a trial," Marian insisted, between clenched teeth. "My husband is innocent. She is a conniving, baseborn liar, who cast her eyes on my husband, and is no doubt angry because he rejected her. Tell him, Robin! Isn't that what happened?"

"Something like that, it would seem," Robin guessed. "She did make a play for me this afternoon, and I told her no. I never expected her to concoct this lie."

"There! You see," Marian told the captain. "There is no need to imprison my husband. He will go to the sheriff tomorrow, and explain everything."

"I'm sorry, milady, but my orders are to arrest him."

By this time, Djaq was heading back down the stairs, and was appalled to watch Robin's wrists being tied, just before he was led away.

Marian sank into a chair, then slammed her fist on the table. "No!" she cried.

"Marian," Djaq said, her voice low and soothing, "it will be alright."

"No, it won't! Not unless I break him out of prison!"

Will and Djaq's eyes met over Marian's hanging head, signalling their mutual intention of dissuading her.

"Why did Allan have to burn my Nightwatchman costume?" Marian cried.

"Gisbourne ordered him to," Will reminded her, as calmly as he was able. "Robin will be alright. Everyone will know the woman's lying."

"Marian," Djaq advised, "you can't go about, wearing a disguise, and risk your life, trying to free Robin. Justice will be served. The sheriff is fair."

Overwrought with worry, Marian shook her head.

She might no longer be able to disguise herself as the Nightwatchman, but there were other disguises, she reminded herself. Already, her mind was busy formulating a plan.


	16. Chapter 16

Hidden beneath her hood, Marian moved boldly through the one street in Nottingham she'd never before set foot in, Gropecunt Street, home to the town's whores. The rain, no longer falling, had turned the street into a maze of puddles, and Marian, still agile in the early stages of pregnancy, dodged them easily. But it wasn't as easy to dodge the unwelcome advances forced upon her. A drunken lord she recognized tried to grab her around her waist, slurring, "Come on, Sweetheart! How'd you like to empty my purse?"

"Get off me!" she hissed, shoving him so hard he fell on his backside with a splash, landing in one of the larger puddles. "Go home to your wife and children!"

It was wrong, she was thinking. Wrong, for her noble hearted, chivalrous Robin to be accused of a sex crime, when he'd never even think of visiting this street, honoring women as he did, and honoring his marriage vows. But she'd help him. She'd break him out of the dungeon, tonight!

Finding the particular bawdy house she was seeking, Marian took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

A rowdy party appeared to be in progress, a party like one Marian had never imagined. Drinking and games of dice were in full progress. Young women in various stages of undress were mixing freely with men of all ages, from a beardless youth of tender years to a toothless old man so frail he couldn't stand on his own. All stations were represented among the clientele as well, saving the peasants. Marian breathed a sigh of relief, glad no one from Locksley was here.

Before Marian's eyes had a chance to adjust to the brilliancy of the candlelit chamber, the short, henna headed woman she'd been seeking hopped off a soldier's lap and hurried to her side, bouncing and jiggling in so many directions it nearly made Marian dizzy.

"What are you doing here?" Maggie asked.

"I need you help," Marian told her, desperately.

Maggie, a good friend of Allan a Dale, had once before helped Robin escape in one of Allan's schemes, dressed, or more accurately undressed, as Lady Godiva astride a horse. She'd then lived for a short time with Robin's gang in the forest, and Marian knew her to be pure of heart, if not of body.

Maggie hustled her into a private room, first shooing out a couple who were just about to get started.

"You shouldn't be here, Your ladyship."

"I need a disguise," Marian told her, singlemindedly undeterred by her surroundings. "I remember you once telling us how you...you women keep a supply of wigs."

"We got wigs, alright. Whad'ju need one for?"

Marian heaved an impatient sigh. She didn't have time for this! "Robin's been unjustly accused. They've taken him to the dungeon, and I need to get him out!"

"What, again? I thought all that was over."

"Apparently not. Will you help me?"

Maggie cocked an eyebrow, thinking. Lord and Lady Locksley weren't bad sorts, for nobles. In fact, they were alright! "Yeah, I'll help. What sorta disguise you want?"

Without flinching, Marian answered, "I need to look like I work here. And," she paused, gathering her plan. "I need some really strong wine."


	17. Chapter 17

"If you want to look the part," Maggie fussed over Marian, replacing a pale blond wig with a vivid red, curly one, "try this on for size. Beggin' your ladyship's pardon, but you'd never pass for a whore in that yellow one. What with your doll like face, you looked like one of God's blessed angels, too sweet to be tempting!"

"I don't have time for this, Maggie," Marian fumed impatiently. "Robin needs me! Just give me something and let me go!"

Fluffing out the red flowsey curls she'd pulled onto Marian's head, Maggie nodded appreciatively, then mentioned, "Just let me paint your face and we'll be ready, 'cause I wanna come along, too, for old times sake." Generously applying red carmine to Marian's lips and outlining her eyes in charcoal, she commented, "You could make a good living here at the Cherry Pit, your ladyship, if you'd only learn to be friendlier to the gents. You got assets, you know, spillin' right out the top of that gown I give you." Giggling, she added, "In fact, them guards are gonna be so busy feastin' their eyes on what you're sellin', there's no need for the wig or the facepaint! No men's eyes will be lookin' that high up!"

Embarrassed, Marian tried tugging the neckline of her bodice higher, but only succeeded in spilling further out of it. "No!" she cried in frustration. Turning to Maggie, she begged, "Is there anything less blatant I can wear?"

"That's as less as you can go," Maggie answered, not understanding. "Any less than that, and you'd be half naked."

"I don't want to be naked at all," Marian tried to explain, readjusting her bodice into some semblance of decency. "I just want to fool the guards, get them drunk, steal their keys, and free my husband."

"Why'd he get locked up again?"

Leaving the Cherry Pit together, Marian told Maggie the entire story, finishing with, "It's not Robin's fault. Women just naturally fall in love with him."

Despite Marian's obvious unhappiness, Maggie exploded into laughter.

"What?" Marian asked, annoyed.

Maggie ended her laughing fit with a deep sigh, giggled a bit more, then explained, "It's true what they say...Love really is blind."

They were hurrying through the back alleys of Nottingham to reach the castle, but Marian was confused and wanted an explanation.

Wiping the tears from her eyes, Maggie told her, "It's just...it's funny! You...thinkin' he's so fine!"

"What do you mean?"

"His lordship!" Maggie chortled, giggling again. "Robin! Oh, he's alright, now that I know him, not stuck up and snooty, like lotsa them other snot nosed lords. But you...thinking he's good looking!" She burst into fresh peels of laughter, stopping Marian in her tracks.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Marian snapped. "Of course, my husband's good looking!"

Maggie laughed so hard at that, she doubled over, clutching her stomach. "What, him?" she snorted. "I'm sorry to be the one to tell you, your ladyship, but your Robin's goofy looking, what with his little boy face, looking all smashed in!"

"Smashed in...? What?" Marian inwardly decided there must be something wrong with Maggie, or at least, be suffering from weak vision. But there wasn't time to debate her husband's stunningly handsome face. They were nearing the castle, and needed to begin their charade.


	18. Chapter 18

Locked in his dungeon cell, Robin's active mind refused to let him sleep. He was counting on Sheriff Wilfred's fairmindedness to see him through this unjust imprisonment and false accusation, which was why he'd cooperated and let himself be hauled away from his home. He hoped Marian wasn't too worried.

If he could only speak to Annora! Robin didn't believe her to be so meanspirited as to want him harmed, when she knew he'd never even tried to touch her inappropriately. She probably couldn't sleep either, regretting her lie, but likely being too frightened now to withdraw it. But she would, he was certain. Annora wasn't an evil person, he believed, just wounded by his rejection. She would come to her senses, and recant her accusation.

All the same, being locked in the dungeon brought back memories long since buried in the distant recesses of his mind. Just as Much had mentioned he expected to see Gisbourne striding through the castle earlier today, Robin half expected to see Sheriff Vaisey come strutting down the steps to try to bait and goad him into one of their "little chats." The very thought made his skin crawl.

But at least Vaisey hadn't clapped him in irons, not every time he'd been imprisoned. It seemed James Fitzhugh was taking no chances of him escaping, double locking him into the most secure cell available, clapping both his wrists and ankles in iron chains forged into the stone walls, and posting four men to guard him, two outside the entrance to the dungeon, and two just outside his cell. No wonder sleep eluded him!

"Oi! What's going on here?" one of his guards interrupted his thoughts, demanding information. "Get back to your posts!"

"Shut up, Barker," another guard insisted. "We're still guarding the prisoner. We're only bringin' these lovely ladies down so they can see 'Robin Hood' in jail again!"

"So as they can tell their grandchildren," the other guard acknowledged.

Robin was shocked to see Maggie, swaying on her feet as if drunk, fling her body up against the guard called Barker. "Now, Sweetie," she was cooing, rubbing up against him, "don't you go barking and tell on us! All's we want is a little peek!"

"Give us a peek," the fourth guard bargained, leering at the other red headed whore, "and we'll give you one."

Robin glanced at the woman and felt ashamed of himself. One quick glance, and his trousers grew snug. He couldn't control what had happened, but he could keep his eyes averted. He did so, until he recognized her voice.

"You first, Handsome," she teased.

Marian! What was she doing here? Especially, falling out of the top of her dress, disguised as a whore! Robin was livid, and tried to communicate it to his wife through a burning stare.

"We brought a little refreshment for you boys," Maggie added, holding up a wineskin. "Finest brew the Cherry Pit has to offer! Who wants a swig?"

All four guards did, laughingly passing the wineskin among them. Marian took the opportunity to look at Robin, signalling him hope, and was instantly angry by his furious expression.

What, was he being a fool, jealous of some guards, when she was only trying to free him? All the pity she'd felt at seeing him locked up disappeared. Rolling her eyes, she dismissed his jealousy, and began playing her part.

"So, this is the famous Robin Hood," she slurred, pretending to be drunk. "Dudn't look so handsome to me! Goofy looking, I'd call him!" She tossed her head and shot Robin a look of triumph, then one of pity, when she noticed the irons.

She remembered how much it had hurt when her own wrists had been mangled, the day Gisbourne allowed her to be chained as Winchester's prize. The irons had rubbed the skin on her wrists raw, and Robin had stolen into her room later, and had been gentleness itself, helping her bathe them. He had been certain she would finally join him that day in the forest, and had been so unhappy she'd chosen to remain in the castle, yet hadn't spoken a single word of reproach.

The guards were laughing harder at her comment. "Goofy looking!" they repeated, jealous of the handsome former outlaw. "No wonder he had to force that girl!"

"You shoulda come to us, Sweetie," Maggie purred through the bars of his cage. "We'll be nice to anyone, what can pay the price!"

Marian didn't feel up to the charade any longer. But she drew herself together, for Robin's sake.

"Your turn," the leering guard informed her, already showing signs of drunkenness from the potent wine. "I gave you your peek. Now, it's time I get to see mine!"

"How dare you" was on the tip of Marian's tongue, but she bit it back, saying instead, "Looks are free. Meet me at the Cherry Pit with your purse fully lined, and we can really have fun!"

She could hear an angry explosion of breath coming from Robin's cell. _No, Robin, don't struggle. It will make the irons dig deeper into your flesh. They'll be drunk soon, and you'll be free._

"Since looks don't cost," Barker invited, "show us all what you got!"

All the guards hooted and made cat calls at Marian, and she wasn't exactly sure what to do, when Maggie came to her rescue, flinging open her bodice and snapping it shut again. "Every time you four sweeties take a drink," Maggie offered, "you get another peek. Wanna play?"

The guards shouted out their willingness, and began swilling the wine faster than Much could skin a squirrel. Maggie was kept busy, opening and shutting her bodice, gradually giving the guards longer and longer looks.

They'd seemed to have forgotten Marian, to her vast relief. She leaned her side against the bars of Robin's cell, to keep one eye on the guards, and cast one loving one on her husband. "Don't worry, my love," she whispered to him, "you'll soon be free."

"To go where?" he asked her. "Are you really expecting me to run off to the forest again, Marian, without clearing my name? And where did you get that dress?"

Her head whipped around to fully face him so quickly, her wig nearly came off. "Where do you think?" she hissed. "Don't tell me you're ungrateful of my help!"

"Help?" he repeated, smugly. "You shouldn't be here, Marian. You should be at home, doing your embroidery."

It had slipped out, an old argument never quite forgotten. "How dare you?" she cried, her voice growing louder in her passionate response.

The guards stopped drinking, and looked toward the arguing couple. Maggie held her breath, wondering what to do. Luckily, the wine had taken affect. One by one, the guards' heads swayed, then dropped to the floor, as they each passed out in a drunken stupor.

"Lord!" Maggie cried excitedly. "Look at all them keys! Which little bugger do you think opens your cell?"

"Leave them, Maggie," Robin ordered. "I'm staying, until justice is served."

Maggie lifted her eyebrows, but accepted whatever his lordship wanted. Marian, however, could not believe her ears. Grabbing the heavy keyring out of Maggie's hands, she quickly began fitting key after key into the locks on Robin's cell door.


	19. Chapter 19

"Leave it, Marian," Robin ordered. "I'm not leaving this cell."

Disregarding his words, Marian continued her frantic search for the correct key. "You may not have forgiven yourself for whatever horrors you committed in the Holy Land, Robin," she told him, scoffing off his command, "but the rest of the world has. Don't forget, you won't be the only person harmed, by sacrificing yourself. What about Ellie, and our new baby? What about me?"

Robin stared at his wife, looking so unlike herself in her whore's disguise, in disbelief. "That's not what this is about, Marian."

"Isn't it? Then tell me. Why won't you escape?"

"Because," he impatiently explained, amazed that his highly intelligent wife could behave so foolishly, "I don't need to. I'm not an outlaw, and the sheriff's not Vaisey. If I go with you, how will that look?"

Before she had a chance to answer, he shouted at her, "What's happened to you, Marian? I remember you showing up when I was locked up here before with a clever plan, pretending I had a ring of yours; not this foolish masquerade, flaunting your body at the guards! Do you have any idea what the sight of you, dressed like that, does to a man?"

"Don't raise your voice at me. So, it's the costume you object to, not me trying to get you out of here! It worked, didn't it? Besides, I remember you had no trouble when Allan, Much, and Little John rescued you, with the same plan."

"They didn't dress up like whores!"

Maggie, hanging on every word, exploded into laughter. "Lovely ladies them three would make!" she chortled merrily. "Though you orta see Allan in that same wig your ladyship's wearing. Made all us girls collapse with laughter!"

Ignoring her, Marian grew more and more frustrated when key after key failed to fit the cell door's locks, adding fuel to her argument with her husband. "They made the guards drunk," she reminded him, "and helped you escape. That's exactly what I'm trying to do. But when they did it, you bragged what a brilliant plan Allan had come up with!"

"I was an outlaw," he said again. "I'm not anymore."

"Really? So, that's why you're in jail."

Clenching his teeth, he shook his head and laughed, unpleasantly.

He remembered the escape she had mentioned. It had happened shortly after Djaq had joined his gang. He'd been practicing archery with Much and Allan, giving them pointers, and Much had just made a brilliant shot. Robin was planning to split his arrow, when Allan spoke up, saying, "Is that Marian?" causing Robin's arrow to fly offcourse.

Because he and Marian had argued over something he couldn't remember now, Robin had been touchy, and had stormed away, upsetting and alarming Much. Feeling a hunger in his soul, he'd gone to Nottingham, and had snuck into the back of Saint Mary's Church, where he saw Vaisey asleep in the front pew, snoring loudly, with Gisbourne by his side. Putting his hatred for the man out of his mind, Robin had worshipped his Lord and savior, realizing how very much he missed doing so in a public place of worship.

After mass, feeling renewed and refreshed, he exited the church, only to be surrounded and captured by sheriff's men. And then, to his delight, John, Allan, and Much had appeared with wineskins in the dungeon, to trick the guards and get them drunk, and had freed him. Just as Marian was trying to do tonight.

Except, of course, he couldn't leave. There was no need. Doing so would only make him look guilty, when he was innocent.

He was so angry at Marian tonight, so frustrated by her...so attracted. He hated the wig and the paint on her face, but her body spilling out of that gown! No! He needed to somehow pull his eyes away.

"I've heard of women losing their reason when they're with child," he smirked at her now. "I never expected it to happen to you."

"How dare you?" she asked, flinging the keyring to the floor. "You just don't like to see me in costume, do you? It's fine for you, of course! You shaved the top of your head, and put on a monk's robe and a holy expression, and made that stupid girl fall in love with you! You started this whole entire mess."

"I didn't try to draw her to me, not like you're doing, in that gown! I wore a clergyman's costume, Marian. What could be more innocent than that?"

"Not wearing a costume at all! You should have gone to that party, dressed as yourself. You only did it for adventure, Robin. How are you liking your adventure, now?"

Maggie noticed the guards beginning to stir. "You two better hurry up and finish, or all that good wine will of gone to waste," she warned them. "These gents are waking up!"

Quickly, Marian reached for the keyring, realizing too late she'd have to start completely over.

"Go, Marian!" Robin ordered her. "Go home. NOW!"

"You just don't like the fact that I'm a woman!" she cried out to him, in frustration.

He stared at her, liking nothing so well. "You really have lost your reason, haven't you?" he smirked.

Tearing off her wig, Marian hurled it at him through the bars, along with the keyring, then grabbed Maggie by her hand and tore off running. "Let yourself out, since you're so smug," she sneered back at him, over her shoulder. "But don't expect any kind of warm welcome back home!"

...

**(Note: Robin's memory of losing at the archery lesson, his skulking off to church, subsequent capture and rescue, is taken from a very old Robin Hood ballad called Robin and the Monk. Although Allan was not mentioned in the ballad, just Robin, Much, and Little John, who else but Allan would cause Robin's arrow to go astray by his Marian comment, and who better than Allan to come up with the plan to get the guards drunk? Will and Djaq, of course, stayed behind at camp, to get better acquainted, in their own shy way!)**


	20. Chapter 20

Looking herself again, Marian pushed open the door to the Trip to Jerusalem Inn, desperately seeking its proprietor, Allan a Dale.

The Trip, dark and smoke filled and smelling of ale and tallow wax, was even more crowded and noisy than the Cherry Pit had been. Marian was struck again with the thought that her Robin, stubborn and smug and infuriating though he was, never wasted his nights away from home in such places.

"Whoa!" Allan's voice cried out when he noticed her. "What are you doin' here?"

"Looking for you," she answered in a rush. "Robin's locked in the dungeon. You've got to help me!"

"Dungeon...what?"

"They've clapped him in irons!"

Suddenly, all her strength seemed to drain from her, leaving her feeling weak and vulnerable. It was as if she could feel the cold heavy metal biting into her own wrists, rubbing their skin raw. "Please, Allan!" she cried, refusing to allow herself such weakness, "you've got to help me!"

"Yeah, yeah, of course! Just don't cry, oi?"

Pushing their way through the throng of drunken customers and curious tavern girls, Allan led Marian to a private room he used as his office. "Now," he said, leaning his backside against a table, "whad Robin do to get himself locked up again?"

Her fear and frustration were obvious. "What he did doesn't matter! He's been falsely accused of raping a stupid girl, who also happens to be the wife of England's new Chancellor! And he won't let me help him out of the dungeon!"

"Rape? Not bein' funny, but that's the last thing Robin would ever do. Most of the time, he's gotta fight the women off him! You're the only one I know, who ever turned him down!" When Marian shot him a hurt and angry look, he hastened to explain, "Not that he ever went after any other ladies, since I've known him!"

"Not even Isabella?" Marian couldn't help asking, in spite of her urgency to rescue Robin.

"Our illustrious queen?" Allan smirked, since King John had divorced his first wife, the wealthy Isabella of Gloucester, keeping her money for himself of course, and had married Isabella of Gisbourne. "Yeah, well, Robin didn't turn her down, who would? I sure didn't, when the opportunity presented itself, but she went after him first, like stink on sh*t. Sorry."

Returning to the matter at hand, Allan continued, "But you say he won't let you free him? What? You already make a rescue attempt?"

"With Maggie's help, yes. But he refused to leave, the fool!"

"My Maggie?"

Marian was thinking, "Everyone's Maggie," though she wouldn't say so, knowing Allan held Maggie's heart, even if her body was for sale to almost anyone who could pay the price, which was surprisingly cheap. "We don't have time for this!" she cried out instead. "Are you going to help me?"

"What do you want me to do? Look, Marian, if Robin wouldn't follow you and Maggie outta the dungeon, do you really think he'll follow me? Or John? Or Much? Not bein' funny, but-"

"So you're not going to help me?" she asked, in disbelief.

"Look, Robin knows what's best. He always does. If he wouldn't leave the dungeon, he's got his reasons. When have you ever known him not to have a plan, oi, Marian? Come on, can't you just hear him sayin', 'Trust me' ?"

Only half convinced, Marian glared at Allan and demanded, "Have you ever been clapped in irons? I have, twice, and I'm telling you, it hurts!"

"I've been tortured," he coldly reminded her.

Knowing they had reached an impasse, yet refusing to give up and do nothing, Marian gave him a terse "goodnight" and left the Trip, to disobey Matilda's orders and find her horse to seek other help. But before she could swing herself into her saddle, she watched in amazement, as the royal coach rolled into Nottingham.

King John, having learned Robin of Locksley was locked within Nottingham's dungeons, had travelled with all haste to enjoy the wondrous miracle, bringing with him his bride, Queen Isabella, formerly of Gisbourne.


	21. Chapter 21

For all intents and purposes, Robin found himself completely alone in the dungeon, for his guards were so drunk they couldn't stand up, and Marian had darted away, taking Maggie with her. And now that his wife had gone, he was sorry for the harsh words he'd thrown at her, and missing her, longed again for her company.

A light step approaching his cell made him believe his wish had come true.

"Marian," he breathed yearningly, "I'm glad you're back! I did not mean what I said earlier. I still think I need to stay here, but I understand now why you tried to free me. If our situations were reversed, my love, I'd move Heaven and Earth to take you home with me again."

"So sorry to disappoint you," the familiar voice of Isabella of Gisbourne sneered, "but once again, Robin, I'm not her."

"Isabella," Robin sneered back, hiding his disappointment behind his angry defiance. "What are you doing here?"

"It's Queen Isabella now, Hood, or have you forgotten?"

"It's Locksley, or have _you_ forgotten?"

Tossing her head, Isabella threw him her spoiled brat smile, the one she usually reserved for her brother Guy. "You don't look like someone on the right side of the law, my lord earl," she smirked sarcastically, "and so, I prefer still calling you Hood." Her mocking laughter turned provocative, and she coyly added, "Though you do look yummy! Mmmm! Look at you, all bound and helpless! Shall I drop to my knees and offer up a prayer for you, Robin? Or, better still, I could offer you something else, kneeling before you. After all, what's to stop me from ripping apart the laces on your trousers? Certainly not your drunken guards."

"You do, and you'll be the one guilty of rape, Isabella. Not me."

"Rape? I'd hardly call something so pleasurable 'rape!' Don't you remember the time everyone was asleep in your wretched little outlaw camp, when I crawled into your bunk-"

"Shh!"

"-and I gave you a-"

"Stop it, Isabella!"

"-a wake up call you'd never forget? You didn't consider it rape then."

"I was asleep," he spat out, embarrassed and ashamed. "By the time I woke up and realized what you were doing, it was too late. You and I agreed never to mention it. You gave me your word."

Isabella broke into peels of laughter. "My word? Oh, Robin!"

"I mean it, Isabella. Marian can't know, even if I didn't ask for it, and I thought she was dead."

"Marian? Hmm...I wonder whether she ever wakes you up so deliciously? I wonder if she ever woke up Guy!"

Enraged, Robin wished she were a man, so that he might challenge her to combat. "You're no queen," he could only sneer at her in disgust. "You have no right to England's Crown." Spying the red curly wig Marian had earlier tossed at him, he kicked at it, wincing as his manacles dug deeper into the skin around his ankles, for the chancellor had insisted his boots be removed. "That is what you ought to wear on your head, Whore."

Isabella's eyes bulged with fury, outraged by his insult. "Rapist!" she shrieked, accusing him even though she knew the charge was false. "I can't wait until my husband, the King, cuts off your ballocks and feeds them to you!"

"Well, you'll be waiting a long time. I'm innocent, and the poor frightened girl who accused me will come to admit it, and tell the truth."

Isabella raised her eyebrows in a superior look. "You think so, do you, Robin? Don't be so sure. I haven't taken her under my wing yet, but I expect the poor thing will need my support and comfort, after the ordeal you put her through."

"What ordeal?"

"Rape, of course! I'll be sure to let her know she is not alone. I'll tell her everything...how you nearly tore my dress off me, that day in the meadow, when you raped me! Thank God I escaped when I did, by pulling your sword from its scabbard, and crying aloud, 'God save King John!' "

"Oh! You adorable girl!" the king's spoiled voice exclaimed delightedly, as he pranced down the dungeon steps to join them. "God save me! And the Devil take you, Locksley!"


	22. Chapter 22

In answer to the pounding, insistent knocks on the door to Bonchurch Lodge in what seemed the middle of the night, Eve shooed away a servant and pulled open the door herself.

"I'm sorry to bother you so late," Lady Locksley breathlessly told her. "I'm here for Much. Where is he?"

"Sound asleep, like all good Christian people should be," Eve answered, still uncomfortable in Lady Marian's imposing presence, no matter how kind the noblewoman now always treated her.

"I need him, please!"

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Much appeared at the top of the stairs, clothed in a nightcap, nightshirt and robe, complete with slippers, all embroidered with flourishing M's. He looked ridiculous.

"Marian?" he sputtered anxiously. "Wha-wha-what? What are you doing here? Where's Robin?"

"In the castle dungeon!" she answered, relieved to see him. "He's been arrested! I need you to help me get him out!"

"Arrested? What? Unbelievable! How? Why?"

"We don't have time for this! Will you help me?"

"Of course!"

Much, uncertain what to do, headed a few steps back toward his room, then raced down some steps toward Marian, then back up again toward his room, his indecision turning him into a frantic yoyo.

"Hurry!" Marian ordered, making up his mind for him. "Change your clothes and grab your weapons!"

"My weapons, yes!" Almost falling down the entire flight of stairs to give Eve a peck on her cheek, Much told his wife, "Robin needs me!" then turned to stumble back up the steps again, while Marian balled her fists against her thighs, waiting in frustration.

"Hurry!" she begged him again.

"I'm coming!" Much called, rushing at last toward his room. "Oooh! I hate this!"

...

"Should you be riding?" Much asked Marian, as their horses galloped toward Nottingham. "I mean, in your condition?"

"No, I shouldn't," Marian snapped, "but what choice do I have? Besides, there's really no risk to the baby. Llanrei would never throw me."

"Yes. But what about all the joggling up and down? Or is it jiggling?"

Marian didn't respond. She was so skilled at riding, she almost glided, one with her mount. She'd never knowingly do anything to put her her unborn baby at risk. All the same, Much's words struck her with guilt.

"I can't believe this!" Much cried, never silent for long. "How could anyone accuse Robin of...of...?" Much couldn't even speak the word, in a lady's presence. "I mean...Robin! He's...he's...he's Chivalry itself, when it comes to women. Except, of course, when you and he argue."

"Even then," Marian admitted, "mostly. He rarely says anything too horrible. He's never vicious. Why did he have to attract that girl?"

"He always does, you know. I'm not sure he can help it. You should have been there, Marian, on our way home from war! No, you shouldn't! I shouldn't have said that."

Another brief silence was broken by Much asking, "What are we going to do, Marian, once we arrive? Have you thought up a plan?"

She drew in her breath, uncertain what to do.

"Not even half a plan?" Much asked anxiously. "Unbelievable!"

"I'll think of something," Marian told him, silently praying for inspiration.


	23. Chapter 23

Sneaking through the darkened corridors of Nottingham Castle, a frustrated Marian wondered how her husband could have kept his sanity all those years, with Much as his constant companion.

This was nothing like those times she had crept with Robin through the castle, with danger lurking behind every corner. They had moved silently together as one unit, their very breaths synchronized. But Much! He wouldn't keep silent, with his anxious gasps, his explosions of "Unbelieveable!" and "What was that?", his bumping into things, and his resulting "Sorries!" As fondly as she loved him, he made Marian want to scream out loud, or strangle him. Robin had obviously been blessed with more patience than she'd ever guessed.

Miraculously, they arrived undetected at the door leading to the dungeons, and found it surprisingly unlocked and unguarded.

"No guards!" Much proclaimed, relieved but still anxious. "That's a good sign."

A few steps down he halted, grabbing Marian by her arm. "But what if it's a trap?" he asked, panicking. "I hate this! What do we do?"

"We keep going," Marian told him, removing his gripping hand from her arm. "Robin needs us."

Unknowingly, that was the wisest thing she could have said. Much, renewing his resolve to rescue his dearest friend, put aside his fears and charged ahead.

When they at last reached Robin's cell, neither found themselves able to speak, for an unexpected surprise met their eyes.

Four guards, still sleeping off the Cherry Pit's wine, lay sprawled within the cell, propped up against one another. The guard who had leered at Marian, begging her for "a peek," wore the flowsey red wig pulled down over his head. And Robin? He was nowhere to be seen.

"Are you sure this is the right cell?" Much asked, flabbergasted. "Where's Robin?"

Marian could only blink her eyes in surprise, but spun around to look at her husband, when she heard his proud voice announcing, "Right behind you, my friend!"

"Robin!" Much cried happily. "This...is a rescue!"

The two men embraced, congratulating each other as if they'd just won some teamsport at Nottingham Goose Fair.

"No need for a rescue," Robin grinned. "I followed my lovely wife's advice," and he actually had the audacity to wink at her, "and let myself out."

"How did you do it?" Much asked, and then realized, "Shouldn't we be going?"

"Not yet," Robin smirked proudly. "I have a call to make before I walk out of here, and I need your help, Much."

Marian stood silently by, glad that Robin was free from his chains and his dungeon cell, but angry and confused by his arrogant manner.

"How did you get out?" she coldly asked at last, her curiosity overcoming her pride.

Beaming at her, Robin replied, "I simply unlocked my chains, then reached through the bars to unlock my 'cage,' thanks to your help, my love! It's good to see you looking like yourself again," he added, wearing that irrestible look on his face that meant he really wanted to kiss her. "Marian here tossed me the keys," he explained to Much. "Good work, by the way," he added for Marian's benefit, his voice golden and tempting as his lips.

"Much," Marian said, "could you please step away, for just a moment?"

"A-a-away?" Much sputtered, indignantly. "Why?"

"To stand guard?" Marian offered, weakly.

Robin chuckled, his grin spreading. "You heard my wife," he told Much. "Time for you to disappear."

After a moment of indecision, Much unwillingly agreed. Huffing, he stormed away, muttering "unbelievables" under his breath.

Marian's eyes seemed to beckon Robin to her warm, soft, sweet mouth, and he moved closer to her, now that Much's wide blue eyes were no longer staring at them.

"Now," he said warmly, "time for me to express my thanks."

Just as his lips were about to meet hers, she tilted her face away, smiling triumphantly, but teasingly, too. "Not so fast, Locksley," she smiled at him. "I thought you told me you weren't planning to leave your cell."

"That was before I was visited by the king and queen," he informed her.

"I saw the royal coach," she realized, all teasing gone. "They threatened you?"

"Taunted me, more like. But don't worry. I have a plan."

"A plan you need Much's help for, but not mine."

"Hey," he said soothingly, the look in her eyes nearly breaking his heart. "You did your part, Marian, very well too, I might add! You set me free, by throwing me the keys, which by the way, I've hidden very well. But I need you now to go home, get to bed, and stay safe. I'll be along to join you soon, I promise."

"I don't want to go home!" she insisted stubbornly. "Why can't I stay? Because I'm a woman?"

Taking her in his arms, she at first resisted, then relaxed and melted against him, unable to resist the familiar feel of his strong young body, with its heart pulsing strongly against her own beating heart. "You are most definitely a woman," Robin answered, capturing her mouth in a long, slow, passionate kiss. "You are also the most precious person in the world to me. I love you, Marian, and I want to keep you safe."

"What of your safety?" she demanded, sadly.

"What I'm planning isn't dangerous," he assured her, lovingly stroking her hair. "I'm just going to pay Annora a visit, and-"

She pulled away. "Robin! Have you lost your mind? You can't barge into that woman's bedchamber, in the middle of the night!"

"I couldn't alone," he admitted. "That's why I was still here in the dungeons, when you found me. I was trying to think of a plan to clear my name. But, since you brought Much along, I can now visit her without suspicion, and talk sense into her."

Marian continued to stare at him, amazed and indignant. "I'm coming along," she insisted. "Two witnesses to attest to your honor have to be better than one!"

At her words, Robin's eyes lit up, a grin spreading slowly across his face. Kissing her cheek, he happily proclaimed, "Once again, Marian, you are a genius!'

"What?" she asked, hating not understanding his thoughts.

"You just reminded me...there's yet another witness! Daniel was in the stables, when she claimed I hurt her!"

Marian's face lit up as well. "He was?"

"Yes! And just for that, my love, you may come along with Much and me. You've earned it."


	24. Chapter 24

It was an easy matter for Robin to guess what bedchamber Annora was lodged in. As wife of England's Chancellor, she was certain to claim one of the finest ladies' chambers Nottingham Castle had to offer, second only to the rooms reserved for the Queen. It also happened to be the same suite of rooms Marian used to occupy when her father had been sheriff, and even afterward, though not the tower chambers she'd later occupied as a prisoner.

Just outside the door, Robin grinned wickedly and whispered, "The last time I broke in here, I was treated to a very pretty sight!"

Marian rolled her eyes. "You couldn't see anything," she scolded, smiling in spite of herself at his impudence, remembering the time he'd broken into her room to hide under her bedclothes, when she'd forgotten to pack a nightdress.

"You're right, I couldn't," he admitted. "If I had been able to see, I'd never have left!"

"And been captured by the sheriff, or tortured by me?" she teased.

"Robin...!" Much warned anxiously, interrupting his friends' flirtatious teasing. "What if she has...you know..._ladies_ surrounding her?"

"She would!" Marian huffed, her mood instantly souring. "She's just the sort of helpless chit who would hire an army of servants to attend her, in pretense of her new found station."

His wife's bitterness made Robin regret he'd invited her along. But it was too late to go back on his promise now. To lighten the mood, he teased Much, "Why else did you think I needed your help? You, my friend, are in charge of charming the ladies!"

For a moment, Much was speechless. But only for a moment. "Me?" he gasped at last. "Wha-wha-wha-HOW?"

Grinning knowingly, Robin pulled out several small purses filled with coins. "Bribery always buys silence with women, I've found."

"Yes! When _you_ offer it," Much cried accusingly. "But it's not so much the money, you know, as...as...well...YOU!"

"Then just do what you've seen me do, Much," Robin told him, needing to refocus on his approach toward Annora. "I need to think," he added, which Much understood as a request for silence.

Much did his best to remain quiet, but his anxiety over having to charm "an army" of unknown women to keep them from screaming was more than he could stand. "What should I do?" he asked Marian.

"Draw your sword," she suggested, in all seriousness.

"My SWORD?" Much shouted, appalled, and was shushed. "I can't...can't..." His voice trailed off, as he realized Marian's plan, although shocking, would certainly be easier and more effective than Robin's. But no. It was impossible. "It can't be done," Much decided. "I am a man, and they, however many of them there are, are women, and men do not threaten women, no matter how loudly they scream."

"Would you rather Eve hear how you broke into a woman's bedchamber in the middle of the night, and 'charmed' her attendants?" Marian asked.

Much sucked in his breath. "Ooooh!" he cried in frustration. "I hate this!"

Robin, unable to completely tune out their conversation, turned to them and ordered, "No weapons! That's not the way we're doing this, Marian."

"Speak for yourself," she shot back. "If she accused you of rape, she deserves no less."

"I mean it, Marian," Robin warned.

"Oh! So you prefer to mollycoddle her into agreeing to confess her lies?"

"Something like that," he answered, smugly angry.

Much, once again, hated being caught up in the center of another one of their arguments. "Unbelievable!" he almost wept. "I could be home in Bonchurch, sound asleep in my comfortable bed, but you!" he cried, pointing at Marian. "You had to ride to my house, pound on my door, and tell me Robin needed to be rescued, when all along, he'd rescued himself! Unbelievable!"

Marian remained silent, realizing from the look in Robin's eyes what he'd taken from Much's rant.

"You did what, Marian?" he asked. "Tell me you didn't ride tonight."

Lifting her chin defiantly, to partially cover the guilt she was feeling, she asked, "How else did you imagine I travelled here, Robin?"

After a momentary staredown, Robin recalled their purpose for being here. "We will sort this out later," he told her, trying not to notice the angry tears beginning to well in Marian's eyes. "Let's finish this now."


	25. Chapter 25

Much's fears of an "army" of women attending Annora were greatly exaggerated, for when Robin shoved his shoulder up against the door to open it, there was only one servant sleeping on a small bed at the foot of Annora's grand one.

Much followed Robin's lead by clapping his hand over the old woman's mouth to stop her from screaming, just as Robin had done to Annora. Marian planted herself staunchily by Robin's side.

"Don't be afraid," Robin's golden voice soothingly told the frightened girl. "We come in peace."

He started to remove his hand from over her mouth, but had to clap it back on again when she let out a scream.

"Shut up!" Marian barked fiercely, in no mood to forgive and forget. "How dare you accuse my husband?"

Robin remained kind and calm, believing he could talk sense into Annora. "You're probably wondering what we're doing here," he said with a lopsided grin. "Think back to your Robin Hood tales. When have you ever heard me not break out of prison? And, Annora, when have you ever heard me hurt a woman?"

Her eyes still stared back at him in terror, though with a flicker of doubt creeping in, so he knew his tactic was working. If, he was thinking, he could keep Marian under control.

"Promise not to scream," Robin continued, in a voice so gentle it reminded Marian of the way he said "Goodnight" to Ellie, "and I'll take my hand back. Alright?"

Annora nodded her head, allowing Robin to slowly release his hand.

"That's better," Robin said, breathing a sigh of relief when she didn't try to scream. "Much over there could tell you, I've never been much for one sided conversations."

"What?" Much gasped.

Robin waited for Annora's response, but she didn't speak a word. Her eyes were drinking him in, her heart pounding. This was just like being in the middle of a Robin Hood story, except she wasn't a damsel in need of rescue. He was the one who needed to be rescued, and all because of her!

"I don't want to be on the wrong side, Robin Hood," she breathed, more smitten by him than ever.

"I don't want that, either," he answered, kindly. "I'd like us to be friends."

"Friends!" Marian huffed, angrily.

She wasn't jealous, just furious that this blond haired wisp of a woman had put her husband's life at risk with her foul lies. "Why did you lie about my husband?" she demanded angrily.

"I was scared!" Annora answered, reaching for Robin's hand, not taking her eyes off him. "My husband made me say it!"

"Why?" Robin wondered aloud, then asked her, intently, "You're not in danger, are you?"

She wanted to claim, "Yes!" and be rescued by him. But a spark of reality reminded her how much more trouble that would bring down on her head.

"I'm not sure," she truthfully answered.

"Has he hurt you?" Robin demanded, growing more and more angry at her husband.

"No." Her response came out reluctantly, for she'd fantasized James had, and that Robin Hood had come to her, just like tonight, and stolen her away, to live as his own true love in Sherwood Forest. "But he might," she added.

"That still gave you no reason to accuse Robin!" Much exploded, realizing for the first time how serious the charges were.

Annora burst into tears. Robin signalled to Much to release her waiting woman, who heaved her heavy body out of her bed to console her weeping charge. "There, there, child," she soothed. "It will all be alright, you'll see."

Robin was trying to think. How could he allow Annora to put herself at risk, by clearing his name? There had to be a way to save himself, without harming her! And he didn't believe Daniel was the answer. If King John wanted him dead, no jury would believe the testimony of a stableboy.

"You're not to blame," Robin assured Annora.

She wished they were alone, without the cold cruel eyes of his wife watching their every move! He was all the dream she'd ever imagined him to be, and so much more!

"Don't worry," he was saying, so handsome and alluring, she could scream. "I'll think of something. Goodnight."

Much and Marian stood rooted to the spot, amazed. "We can't go, just like that!" Much exclaimed, and Marian agreed.

Pulling Much's sword from his scabbard, Marian held its point against Annora's chest and ordered, "Take back your lie! Go to your husband, now, and admit the truth!"

"Put the sword down, Marian," Robin ordered.

"Not until she agrees to make the right choice. Much may not be able to threaten a woman, but I can."

"You make the right choice, and for once, obey me!"

When she refused, Robin threw himself on her and wrested the sword from her hand, then tossed it back to Much. "Are you alright?" he asked Marian.

"Get off me!" she shouted, her pride wounded.

He loved her so much, including her stubborn pride and impulsive bravery, and it tore him apart that they were fighting.

"It's late," he said, as if there was nothing else wrong. "We all need some sleep."

"Sleep?" Much sputtered.

"Go home, my friend," Robin told him. "And thank you."

Much couldn't understand, especially when he saw Robin lift a struggling Marian into his arms and carry her out of Annora's bedchamber.

"Where are you going?" Much demanded.

"Marian and I need to sleep," Robin told him. "I think your old room's still empty," he said to her, "though it might just break my back, carrying you up all those stairs."

"Put me down!" she cried, but he didn't obey her any better than she did him.


	26. Chapter 26

"Where's Little John when I need him?" Robin panted, struggling under Marian's weight, as he carried her up the long winding flight of stairs leading to her former chambers, high atop one of the castle towers.

"I'm perfectly capable of climbing stairs," Marian told him curtly.

"I'm sure you are. But can I trust you not to run away?"

"Put me down, and you'll see."

Robin stopped and studied her eyes, reading in them defiance, yet a certain willingness at last to accompany him. Setting her carefully back on her feet, he made a big show of stretching the kinks out of his back, then chuckled teasingly at her, trying to ease her anger.

"If I'm heavy, you've only yourself to blame," Marian scolded. "I suppose you could carry that lying wisp of a girl Annora up the stairs without even breaking your stride."

"I could," Robin admitted. "But where would be the fun in that?"

He was infuriating, but somehow, his familiar joke and irrepressible grin brought half a smile back to Marian's lips. Sliding her hand under his arm, she let him lead her up the remaining stairs, resigned but happy, and very tired. Wishing to entwine her fingers through his, she slid her hand down his arm, but pulled it away, gasping, when it touched his wrist.

He was sticky with blood and pus, the flesh around his wrists torn and ragged from having been clapped in irons. She looked at him sadly, pity filling her eyes.

"It's alright," he said, making light of his injuries. "But I wouldn't mind you kissing me better."

He hesitated, then tilted his face to reach for her lips, expecting a mild rebuff, but was rewarded with a tender kiss, filled with longing. When it ended, they found their hearts and their feet lighter as they hurried up the remaining steps.

Reaching Marian's former castle chambers. Robin pushed open the door, enterring first to be certain it was safe. "All clear," he told her, thinking romantically of all the times he'd snuck in here to be alone with her.

Marian's memories were not as pleasant. She'd been a prisoner here, with Gisbourne always sniffing around, growing more and more obsessed with her. She still recalled how hard the stone floor had felt when he'd thrown her down upon it, enraged to learn she was the Nightwatchman, and how she'd set a fire, hoping to escape.

Moving briskly across the room, Marian located a jar of ointment to apply to Robin's wrists. It stung, and Robin was glad when she finished, though there was something intimate and stirring to be so close, feeling her fingertips stroke him with so much tenderness and concern. Eyeing the bed, he told her, "We could both use some sleep, but first, we need to talk, Marian."

"Just for once," she surprised him by saying, "couldn't we make up first, and argue later?"

Her meaning couldn't be any clearer. Her arms embraced his neck, her fingers roamed lightly through his hair, and her irrestible mouth pressed eagerly against his own hungry one. Without breaking the kiss, Robin backed her toward the bed until they fell upon it, clinging to one another.

Marian didn't realize she was crying until Robin began kissing away her tears.

"What's wrong, my love?" he asked, his very voice a tender caress.

"I don't want to cry," she insisted, angry at her own weakness. "I'm no different than that awful Annora!"

Lying half beside, half on top of her, Robin gently brushed away her remaining tears. His adoring gaze studied her with so much intensity, it took courage just to meet his eyes. "You're wrong, Marian," he told her. "But I thought you didn't want to argue."

Gently, moving with tender patience, Robin softly kissed her eyelids, wet cheeks, nose and chin, before feasting on her mouth. Marian clung fiercely to him, ardently returning his kiss.

She was frightened for him, terrified he would come to harm. Even if he was no longer physically locked in the dungeon, he was no more free than he'd been when escorted there earlier tonight.

Except that he didn't seem to know it, at least not at this point in time. He cared nothing for his danger, and everything for her. And his roving mouth and hands were magically pushing aside her worries as well, making her forget them, as her body caught fire.


	27. Chapter 27

"So," Robin murmured later, leaning up on one elbow to kiss the inside of Marian's elbow, her wrist, palm and then, one by one, her fingertips, "we're agreed then. No more riding."

Marian's deep sigh of contentment turned to a yawn, for she'd been up all night long. "Unless," she added, drowsily quoting his words, "it's absolutely necessary."

He couldn't help but grin, loving her stubborn streak, for it matched his own.

"Not even then, Marian," he coaxed, his voice intimate. Rolling onto her, he kissed the hollow of her throat, her chin, and lastly her mouth. "Give me your word."

She might have protested, but she was far too tired and content, not to mention completely swept away, to put up any resistance. "No more riding," she smilingly agreed, snuggling against him with closed eyes.

She had no more fear for him. At this moment, just before drifting off to sleep in his arms, she felt sure he could accomplish anything.

Robin smiled, satisifed. They shared their own private joke, that "a promise made under duress is no promise at all, but a promise made under caress is binding." She would keep her word.

...

The following morning, while Marian slept, King John ranted and raved at discovering Locksley's disappearance.

"Where is he?" he shrieked, throwing his breakfast dishes against the wall. "Where is Locksley?"

"Right before you," Robin's voice boldly answered, astonishing the entire group assembled in the King's presence by striding openly into their midst.

Isabella hid her surprise behind a cold, regal sneer. He'd done it again...somehow managed to escape the dungeons. But why would he then present himself before her husband? In any event, he looked delicious!

"Locksley!" the king cried, completely astounded. "Do you dare play games with me?"

"As a matter of fact, King John, that's precisely what I'm proposing to do!" Approaching the king in the manner of one man of the world to another, Robin said pleasantly, "We both know the charges against me are false."

"So?" the king demanded, wearing a spoiled pout.

"I'm proposing you win the love of your people and pardon me, just as your late brother did."

John laughed mockingly out loud. "Indeed? Why would I want to imitate my brother? I am my own man!"

"Like I said," Robin continued, undaunted, "pardon me, and you win the people's love. You know I'm innocent. You've seen my wife. Do you really think I'd stray, married to such a woman?"

King John, forgetting his own wife sat beside him, closed his eyes blissfully for a moment, picturing Lady Locksley. "Ah, yes!" he cooed, "the lovely Miriam! Is she here?"

"I've just come from her," Robin smiled, hating himself at this moment nearly as much as he hated the king. "But she's sleeping, I'm afraid, all tired out."

King John chortled, leering and licking his lips. "What, then, Locksley, is this game you propose? Surely, not just my pardon? Bored now!"

"Certainly not, Your Majesty! No. I propose you let me win my freedom, with a shooting match."

"His Majesty has no interest in your tricks, Hood," Isabella sneered, sounding uncannily like her brother.

King John flung up a hand. "Don't be so hasty to judge me, my dear," he warned her. "Go on, Locksley."

Robin continued ingratiating himself with the king, reminding himself he was doing it for Ellie. "Tonight, at your banquet, I could entertain your guests with an archery demonstration. Select the targets yourself; the more impossible, the better! If I hit everything you suggest, I am pardoned. If not, well, I'm again your prisoner."

A moment passed, a moment that felt like an eternity.

"Yes!" the king cried at last, clapping his hands in glee. "A shooting demonstration! Oh, and you must bring Miriam. She can sit beside me, on the royal dais. And better yet, I will come in costume! You, too, my dear," he told his furious queen. "And I know just the costumes we will wear. I will come disguised as Robin Hood, and you, my pet, as the Nightwatchman!" Rising to his feet, he told all his nobles assembled, "And I expect each of you to come with your purses heavy laden. You, too, Locksley! After all, Robin Hood would never miss an opportunity to rob from the rich!"


	28. Chapter 28

"Goodnight, Boo."

What had seemed like a perfectly normal, family day at Locksley was drawing to a close, while Robin and Marian tucked their daughter safely into her cradle and kissed her goodnight. With any luck, they could return later tonight from Nottingham, so that Ellen would wake up tomorrow morning, never even knowing they'd been gone.

"You look gorgeous, Marian," Robin told his wife, helping her step into their carriage.

"For a pregnant woman, you mean," Marian answered curtly back, anxious for her husband's safety.

"For any woman. You're gorgeous."

He surprised her by suddenly telling Ian to unsaddle his horse, and climbed into the carriage alongside her.

"Since when have you ridden in our carriage?" she asked.

"I thought it'd be easier, carrying my bow along," he lied, sheepishly.

She reached for his hand, appreciating his loving gesture, and enjoyed his company all the way to Nottingham. With God's good grace, they'd be able to ride home together in a few short hours, this dangerous nonsense of Annora Fitzhugh's accusation behind them forever.

...

Although Robin had alerted Marian that Isabella might be dressed as "the Nightwatchman," Marian still had to quiet her own outrage when she saw their new queen's attire.

Isabella wore a pair of tight trousers, high heeled kneehigh boots, a low cut revealing vest over a blousey shirt, and a hooded mantle. A small mask covered the upper portion of her face, but her hair flowed freely, for she was dressed to attract all the male attention she could garner, particularly that of Robin of Locksley.

King John wore his Robin Hood costume, a Lincoln green version of the clothing Robin had worn his first two years as an outlaw, complete with Saracen bow and quiver.

"Unbelievable!" Much muttered under his breath to Robin as the trio enterred the Great Hall, for Much had waited for Robin and Marian to arrive in the castle's outer bailey. "Who are THEY?"

The king had hired a company of travelling players to act out various roles representing members of Robin's Hood's gang. A dark haired adolescent boy whose face was stained with walnut juice was pretending to be Djaq, speaking in gibberish that was supposed to pass for Arabic, while a tall, lanky youth silently brooded over a piece of wood. The chief comedy player of the acting troupe wove his way through the assembled guests, picking pockets, telling jokes, pinching women, and asking in a whisper, "Anybody seen Giz? Not bein' funny, gents, but I got somethin' to tell him." But most outrageous of all was the huge hulk of a man pretending to be Little John.

He was covered in a floor length, dirty leather coat, and a long, tangled wig and false whiskers. But worst of all, he wore a tremendous sausage sewn to the inseam of his trousers, which swung back and forth in a huge arc when he walked.

"Presenting, my mother's paramour, Little John!" the king announced, and the sycophants in the room laughed appreciatively, applauding.

"Unbelievable!" Much cried again. "That is revolting!"

"Good evening, Locksley," James Fitzhugh coldly greeted Robin, his young wife Annora cowering unhappily by his side. "What a crime it is, letting you roam free."

"Master Chancellor, Mistress Fitzhugh," Robin answered, ignoring the chancellor's barb. "May I present my wife, Lady Locksley?"

"Master Chancellor," Marian responded, polite yet chilly.

"We have something in common, milady," Fitzhugh mentioned, further igniting Marian's ire. "We have both been wronged."

"Speak for yourself," she snapped tersely back. "The one truly wronged here is my husband, an honourable man, whose life is at risk by your lies."

James Fitzhugh cleared his throat, uncomfortably. "He will not face death, milady, merely castration, if this ridiculous trial by shooting proves his guilt," he explained.

Much shifted back and forth on his feet, nervously. "I hope you can shoot, Robin, with your wrists sore."

"I can do it, Much," Robin assured him. "Excuse us," he said politely to Annora, who couldn't take her red rimmed eyes off him. "I believe the shooting demonstration is about to begin."

King John was gesturing for Marian to join him on the dais, where she approached him, wearing the same charming half smile she had used to deceive Guy of Gisbourne.

"Lovely, my dear!" the king cried, as his wife sat spitefully by. "You're with child!"

"I am, Your Majesty," Marian answered, hoping to charm the king, and prevent him from reneging on his promise to pardon her husband.

Turning sneeringly toward Isabella, John asked, "Why aren't YOU expecting? It certainly isn't MY fault! Twelve children born on the wrong side of the blanket, yet not a single royal heir!"

"In time, my king," Isabella soothed, wondering how long she could hide the fact she was barren.

She hadn't always been so. After her louse of a brother sold her to the vicious Squire Thornton, she had become pregnant at thirteen, fourteen, and fifteen years old, but had secretly taken a mixture of herbs to kill and dispel the children from her womb, and had since been unable to conceive.

Marian shot her a proud, disapproving stare, wishing to tell her what she really thought of Isabella's revealing Nightwatchman costume, but turned her attention back toward her husband, who stood waiting for the king's command, leaning casually on his upright bow.

The king smiled, sinisterly. "Locksley," he simpered, "I trust you're enjoying my outlaw gang assembled here today. Have they managed to rob you yet?"

"Not yet, Your Majesty," Robin answered, "but then, haven't you forgotten one? I haven't seen anyone pretending to be Much here today."

"Pudgy?" King John asked. "I didn't see any reason to supply him, knowing Lord Bonchurch would follow you here, like the loyal dog he is."

Robin couldn't hide his lip from curling into an unpleasant sneer, growing angry at hearing his best friend insulted.

"In fact," King John added brightly, "I have use for him, in your little shooting demonstration! Pudgy," he called to Much, snapping his fingers. "Here, boy! Here! Good dog! You will serve as the target I select Locksley to hit, to prove his innocence and regain his freedom! After all, Locksley, you did say I could pick ANYTHING!"

Much's eyes widened in fright. "Me?" he cried, incredulous. "Run, Robin?" he begged. "Run?"


	29. Chapter 29

"Your Majesty," Marian cried, hoping her beauty might wield influence with the lecherous King John, "I must protest! My husband cannot shoot one of England's most loyal subjects!"

"Keep still," Isabella barked, pulling off her Nightwatchman mask and flinging it at Marian. "The king may choose any target he wants, and he wants that fool Bonchurch." Smiling suggestively at Robin, she told him, "Shoot, Locksley. Don't keep His Majesty waiting. After all, you're so good at firing off your arrows, and well, other things I won't mention."

Robin, although angry, maintained his composure. For though he hadn't expected this, he was prepared for some sort of treachery. He forced a charming smile onto his face, and wheedled, "Come now, Your Majesty! You can't expect me to spill blood, in front of all these lovely ladies. Pick another target! Let Lord Bonchurch hold something, and I'll shoot it from his hand. Here," he said, removing a ring from his finger, "hold this, Much. My signet ring, Your Majesty. If I can hit it from Much's fingers, I'll even present it to you, with my compliments."

The king pouted, uncertain, until Isabella leaned into him and whispered something in his ear. His spoiled face brightened, as he eagerly listened to her suggestion.

"Very well, Locksley," he conceded, and Robin threw Isabella a guarded but grateful smile. "At the queen's insistance, I agree. But I have a better idea than your mere signet ring! For instance, those jewels in your wife's seashell like ears are far more alluring! You don't mind, do you, my dear?" he asked Marian.

"Of course not, Your Majesty," Marian lied, already beginning to remove an earring, a surprise gift from her husband on the event of Ellen's first birhday. But the king had other plans.

"Stop, lovely Miriam," he ordered. "Allow me!"

To everyone's disgust, King John put his lips to Marian's ear and began removing the earring with his teeth. Much had to physically hold Robin back. But when the king's tongue probed deep into Marian's ear, she made a pretense of sneezing, shaking herself free.

Isabella did not look pleased, until her royal husband spit the earring into his palm and presented it to her. "And after Locksley's arrow strikes the other, my lovely Nightwatchwoman, you will have a pair!" Laughing merrily, he made a joke. "Though not such a buxom pair as Lady Locksley wears!" To Marian, he said, cloyingly, "It won't be long, I trust, Miriam, till my lips begin to nibble on the rosebud tips on that pair of yours!"

Marian looked away, blushing and furious, while Much talked sense at Robin, hanging onto his arm, trying to soothe his temper.

"Just shoot the earring from my grip, Robin, and we can all go home! I mean, look at Marian! She doesn't like the king's revolting advances any more than you do, but she's playing along, and why? For you, and well, for me, too, I suppose. So, the least you can do, is calm down, and shoot. And I do mean, calm down! I'm the one you'll be shooting at, don't forget! You won't miss, will you?"

"I never miss."

"That's better! Alright!" Much gulped, bravely. "I suppose I should go up to Marian and..." He gulped again. "...and take the earring."

"Let me," Robin decided, vaulting over a table to approach the royal dais.

His eyes spoke volumes when looking at his wife, signalling his love, regret, and weariness at having to perform this nonsensical act. Marian, placing her earring in his hand, looked lovingly back at him, her beautiful eyes conveying hope and absolute faith in him.

The king wouldn't allow them to exchange words, for he was growing bored, and wanted the shooting demonstration to hurry up and begin. "Give the earring to Pudgy, and, I know! Spear it into his ear, and shoot it off him that way! Better yet, let's make this really interesting! Blindfold Locksley, and see whether he can hit it!"

"Blindfold him?" Much cried, horrified. "WHAT?"

"I can do it, Much," Robin assured him. "Just keep talking to me, until I raise my bow, then don't move as much as a muscle, alright?"

Much looked understandably anxious. But he trusted Robin's skill with the bow, for he'd been witness to his miraculous shooting on more occasions than he could count, if he could count. Nodding his head, he took his stance, yelping out in pain when a servant jabbed the earring into his bleeding earlobe, then began chattering endlessly, as Robin had ordered.

Robin, blindfolded, at last raised his bow, silencing Much, and everyone held their breath, waiting for him to shoot. Holding steady, Robin seemed to sense his target, and loosed his arrow. Much closed his eyes and prayed.

A split second later, Marian's earring lay on the ground, and Robin pulled off his blindfold to see a pale green Much bent over retching, sick but vastly relieved his ordeal was over.

Marian breathed a silent prayer of thanksgiving, counting the cost of a pair of earrings, even those holding so much sentimental value, a small price to pay for Robin's freedom and Much's life.

James Fitzhugh seethed that Locksley should be let off so easily. He could see Annora gazing at Robin, more besotted than ever. He wasn't done yet, even if the king seemed to be content with a mere pair of earrings.

But Isabella knew better. John and she were united in their hatred toward "Hood," just as she and Robin had been united in their hatred toward Guy. John was only toying with the handsome Earl of Huntington, and nothing could please her more, unless she could be the one toying with him, in private, of course. But since she could not, she might at least enjoy Robin's reaction to her husband's next words, words she had suggested to him when she'd whispered in his royal ear.

"Good shooting, Locksley!" the king proclaimed, snapping his fingers for a servant to bring Isabella Marian's other earring. "And now, shall we watch and see how well I, Robin Hood, can shoot? Miriam! You looked only too eager to get close and cozy with Locksley! Both of you, come along, don't be shy! Put your lips together, and I, Robin Hood, will shoot an arrow through the teeny tiny space under your chins!"

"But, but, but," Much sputtered, "you're not Robin! You can't shoot! You'll kill them!"

"Perhaps," Isabella sneered, smiling triumphantly, proud of the new earrings sparkling in her ears. "We can only hope."


	30. Chapter 30

"No, no, no!" King John whined, pointing an arrow at Robin and Marian. "I thought you two were supposed to be in love! Lock lips, Locksley's, lock lips! And I want to see plenty of tongue. You might as well enjoy yourselves, before you die."

"Die?" Much cried out, aghast. "You can't kill my friends! That would be...would be..."

"Murder," Marian finished for him, her eyes flashing.

"No one needs to die here today," Robin boldly announced, drawing an arrow from his quiver and nocking it to his bow in one beautifully fluid movement. "You've had your fun, King John. You've even stolen my wife's earrings, and I don't give her jewelery often enough for you to do that. Now, since I won my freedom with my bow, I think it's time I escorted my wife home. Goodnight."

"Not so fast, Locksley!" the king objected. "Robin Hood, otherwise known as ME, hasn't shot my bow yet! Lock lips! Lock lips, I say!"

Much anxiously shifted his weight back and forth on his feet, but Marian could tell that Robin had a plan, or at least, half a plan.

"Shoot if you must," her handsome husband agreed, to everyone's amazement, "but do it blindfolded."

"Shoot them NOW!" Queen Isabella shrieked.

King John held up a hand, mulling Locksley's suggestion over in his mind.

"Blindfolded, of course!" he cried at last. "Robin Hood wouldn't simply shoot, not when he could astound the crowd by such an amazing trick! Yes! Where's that blindfold you were wearing, Locksley?"

"Here," Much offered nervously, having picked it up off the floor when Robin had torn it from his eyes. Hurrying forward, he placed it over the king's eyes, then tied it in a knot.

"My king," Isabella protested, "don't fall for his wicked tricks! The moment you cannot see, he'll take his goodie goodie wife by the hand, and disappear! You know he will!"

King John, blindfolded, merely laughed, then pointed an arrow toward his wife's voice, and loosed it. Isabella screamed, ducking out of its path.

"Who did I hit?" the king asked eagerly, delighted by this new game.

A regal, commanding voice from the top of the staircase silenced everyone in the Great Hall.

"It's 'whom,' John," Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine corrected, appearing before the crowd like the goddess Athena descending Mt. Olympus. King John whipped off his blindfold.

"Your father and I clearly wasted the country's treasury on tutors," the Queen Mother complained, "if you cannot even speak correctly. It is called 'The King's English,' after all. But what is this nonsense? Change your clothing, at once! You make a sorry, pathetic Robin Hood."

Descending the stairs in her grand manner, she stopped before a kneeling, delighted Robin of Locksley, and his beautiful wife.

"Robin of Locksley," Eleanor of Aquitaine partially scolded, partially admired. "It's a good thing I prove timely, unlike you, Robin. In trouble again, I see."

"Trouble has a way of finding me, Your Majesty," Robin admitted, his face alight with a boyish grin.

"So you would have us believe." Turning to Marian, she pursued, "And how do you like being pulled into trouble, my dear Lady Locksley?"

"It's exciting," Marian truthfully answered.

"Well, it appears to agree with you. You're positively glowing. As well as expecting again, if I'm not mistaken."

When Marian nodded, the Queen Mother slyly added, "It would appear all aspects of your life with Robin are exciting, then, aren't they?"

Scowling at Isabella, Eleanor asked disapprovingly, "And just what are you got up to represent? The Whore of Babylon?"

"I'm dressed as the Nightwatchman," Isabella shot snippily back.

Queen Eleanor peered out from under arched eyebrows. "The Night Something," she declared, distastefully.

"Mumsie," King John whined, stomping his feet, "stop spoiling all my fun! I'm playing Robin Hood, and these are my merry men!"

The actors he'd assembled stepped forward at his command, bowing before the Queen Mother.

"Stop being a fool, John," his mother ordered, wearily. "That skin stained boy isn't half as pretty as Djaq, nor is that one anywhere near Will Scarlett. And as for your noisy clown, he can't touch Allan a Dale's originality."

"But what about Little John?" the king laughed, reaching for the huge sausage hanging off the front of the large actor's trousers and pointing it at his mother. "Look familiar, Mumsie?"

In spite of herself, Queen Eleanor's eyes glittered. "I detect a small resemblance," she jested naughtily. "And in comparison to the real Little John, I do mean small. But enough! I doubt very much anyone but you is enjoying your charade. Now that I have arrived, I order everyone to dance a galliard! Music! That is your favorite, is it not, Lady Locksley?"

"It is, Your Majesty," Marian smiled, dimples appearing in her cheeks.

...

While happily dancing with her husband, Marian asked, "Robin, did you know the Queen Mother was due to arrive?"

"I hadn't a clue," Robin confessed. "But, like she said, her timing was perfect. What an entrance! How are you feeling, my love? Tired?"

"Not a bit! You just want to get out of dancing, admit it."

"I don't!"

"I wouldn't mind dancing all night, to celebrate your release."

"There are other ways to celebrate, you know."

Marian's dimples deepened, as she told him, "Mmmm. I can think of a few. Let's go home."

"Shameless wanton," Robin teased her, grinning.

They continued dancing a few more rounds, neither noticing anyone but one another, even though the king's eyes burned lustfully for Marian, while Isabella's gaze followed Robin like a cat ready to pounce and devour a mouse. Annora Fitzhugh's eyes also stalked every move of Robin's, though far more wistfully.

As soon as it was polite to depart, Robin ordered his carriage, paid his respects to the Queen Mother, and made ready to escort Marian home to Locksley.

His heart grew as warm as toast, when Marian dropped off to sleep in their carriage, her head on his shoulder. And though his body was worn out, his mind was already formulating a plan to steal back her earrings.


	31. Chapter 31

Marian awoke late the following morning refreshed from sleep, and glad to be home. Sounds of her household and village, already up and busy about their tasks, not to mention the smell of freshly baked bread wafting upward from the kitchen, caused her to realize she couldn't tarry any more in bed, as much as she would like to.

But one or two moments more couldn't hurt, she reasoned, for it was rare that she awoke before her husband, and she couldn't help but enjoy watching Robin sleep.

He lay sprawled out naked on their bed, asleep on his belly, the bedclothes tangled around his ankles. Marian knew he must have fallen asleep exhausted, for he only slept in that position when overly tired, normally sleeping on his back or side.

For that matter, she couldn't even remember going to bed herself, only having a vivid recollection of leaving the castle and riding with Robin in their coach. And sometime later, a dim one, almost like a dream, of Robin removing her garters and stockings, and her objecting that she was "too tired."

Last night's finery, she noticed, including those stockings and garters, lay folded neatly over the top of a chest, leaving her comfortably clothed in her chemise, and she was grateful to have such a tender, loving husband, who must have carried her to bed, and carefully undressed her during the night.

Awakening, Robin rolled onto his back, and Marian immediately covered him with her body.

"Good morning, Handsome," she greeted him with a kiss, then nuzzled her smooth cheek against his bristly one.

He was still groggy, which was rare, for he typically woke up alert, like a spark struck from flintrock. The day was overcast, so he didn't realize how late it was, but he adored waking up with Marian in his arms. His body sprang to life, even if his head still remained foggy.

"It's gloomy today, so you'd better not take Ellie on your rounds," Marian told him, already thinking about the day ahead. "Besides, since I'm stuck here, I'll enjoy having her with me."

Robin's only response was to stroke her cheek, then tilt his head to reach for her lips. When the kiss ended, Marian questioned, "You put me to bed last night, didn't you?"

"You were funny," he remembered, shaking the cobwebs from his brain. "Thought I was trying to seduce you, when I was only being chivalrous, helping you to bed."

"Sorry. I must have been half asleep."

"You know me better than that, Marian," he said, his voice warm and caressing. "Now, if I were trying to seduce you, I might try something more along the lines of..."

Gasping in delight, Marian joyfully gave in to the desire welling up inside her, forgetting the late hour, and how much needed to be done today. After all, a few moments more in bed surely couldn't hurt.

...

As much as he adored his daughter, Robin was pleased to leave her at home today, for he had an errand besides his rounds to his villages which wouldn't be right for Ellen to witness.

A soft rain was beginning to fall, and Robin was glad of the protection of his hooded cloak, more to cover his identity than to protect him from the rain. He preferred it wouldn't get out that he was stepping over puddles in Gropecunt Street, looking for the bawdy house called The Cherry Pit.

Allan had told him where he would be sure to find Maggie, though had warned him the girls would not give him a warm welcome, so early in the day. Relatively early, Robin thought, for it was well past noon by the time he knocked on the door.

After more time on the doorstep than Robin liked, a female voice finally called back through the closed door, "Come back later! We're not open yet!"

"I come in friendship, not as a customer," Robin answered back, politely. "I'm here to visit Maggie. Is she here?"

He had to leap back, when a chamber pot was nearly emptied onto his head from an upper story window. Luckily, he was quick and nimble on his feet.

"Tell her," he persistantly continued, not about to be denied entrance to the house of ill repute, "that her friend, the 'snotty nosed lord with the smashed in face' needs her help."

The door creaked open a crack, and a woman, much in need of sleep and extensive beauty treatments, peered suspiciously out at him. "You a lord?" she asked.

Robin briskly nodded, shaking raindrops from his hood.

"It'll cost you more, just setting foot inside the door," she warned him.

"Let him in," Maggie's voice ordered. "Wouldn't be right, if someone seen him and tells his wife he was here."

The door was flung open, and Robin stepped inside the Cherry Pit, smiling thanks at Maggie.

"What're you doing here?" she scolded. "I know you're not here for what most gents come for! Besides, I wouldn't have you, if you were! What do you mean, pulling me outta bed at such an hour?"

Robin wasn't surprised to see Maggie looking nothing like her professional self, clothed in a plain, thick robe, without any paint on her face. He actually liked the look of her better, for there was a sprinkling of freckles over her cheeks, which reminded him of his daughter.

"You look nice," he said approvingly. "Forgive me the hour. I wouldn't have come, but I need your help."

"Oh, Maggie can help you alright, for the right price," the ugly whore who'd opened the door hooted.

"Shut up!" Maggie barked. "This lord might not be much to look at, but he's alright, once you get to know him."

"Come back tonight with a full purse, Sweety, and I'll be glad to get to know you," the ugly tart told Robin, pulling back his hood and ruffling his hair.

"That's very kind," he answered, stepping back somewhat nervously, "but I'm only here for Maggie." Looking at his short, buxom, henna haired friend, he asked, "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

"Talk!" the other woman hooted, holding her sides as she bent over laughing.

"Don't mind her," Maggie frowned. "Nobody does. Come in here," she suggested, leading Robin into a back kitchen and helping herself to some stale bread. "You want something to eat?"

"No thank you."

"Drink?"

"I've eaten. Maggie," Robin continued, wanting to complete his business as soon as possible, "thank you for seeing me. Like I said, I need your help."

Maggie didn't respond, her mouth busy chewing on the hard loaf she was eating, but Robin could tell she was listening. He continued.

"I wonder whether I could borrow some of your jewels, just for a day? I need them to get a pair of my wife's earrings back."

"My jewels?" Maggie asked, washing down her bread with a cup of watered ale. "What do you want with them for? They ain't real."

"I realize that, which is what makes them so perfect for my plan. I'll pay you for their use, if you'd like. Rent them to me, Maggie. Marian would be very grateful. You see, the earrings I'm talking about were a gift, on our little girl's first birthday, and..."

"I'll do it," Maggie decided, "and not even charge you a hae penny, neither. Who knows? Maybe some dimwitted gent'll give me some more, when I explain I don't have any jewels to wear."

"I'll be the dimwit and buy you whatever you want, once Marian gets her earrings back," Robin grinned. "Thank you."


	32. Chapter 32

Despite her husband's love of spontaneity, Marian knew small children thrived on routine, and her established one now dictated that it was time for Ellen's nap. "Sleep well, Precious," Marian sweetly told her daughter, tucking her into her cradle. Lowering her voice, she confided, "If I'm not here when you wake up, blame the carriage. It's ridiculous the Nightwatchman can't ride, but I promised Daddy."

"Daddy," Ellen echoed, fondly. Holding out her toy horse, Ellen offered, "Ride horsey?"

"I wish, Boo, but I can't. But if you think I'll let that...Isabella wear my earrings, you're wrong. Sweet dreams, Ellie. I love you."

"Mama."

After casting one final lingering smile on her daughter, Marian set her mind upon her plan.

That conniving slut Isabella may had stolen her earrings, but Marian had stolen something last night, as well. Isabella's Nightwatchman mask lay hidden in the Locksley coach, along with a pair of Robin's trousers, a shirt, vest, old mantle, and scarf, ready for Marian to change into, while the carriage rolled slowly toward Nottingham. The Nightwatchman was about to strike again.

...

"Not bein' funny, but it's not one of your better plans."

Allan a Dale, disguised as a jewel merchant, held a casket of Maggie's "jewels" while waiting with Robin in a corridor of Nottingham Castle, just outside Annora Fitzhugh's bedchamber. "Why can't you just break into Isabella's rooms, and steal Marian's earrings back? And don't give me your 'Where would be the fun in that' melarky!"

"Trust me, Allan," Robin said winningly. "This will work!"

"About as well as your monk act, if you ask me. Any chance this chancellor's wife gonna accuse me of rape, 'cause there'd be a lot of grievin' ladies in Nottingham, if I was to lose my-"

"Shh! She's coming! Just stick to the plan, and you'll be fine."

Robin disappeared into the woodwork. If Allan wasn't used to it, he'd be as anxious as Much, for it was uncanny how Robin could do it. Slicking down his false eyebrows, Allan stepped forward to approach a very young, very blond, very wispy woman, bowed, and said, " 'Cuse me, Madame. I was told you were the loveliest flower in all England, but I didn't believe it till I laid eyes on you myself."

Allan had to admit, he liked Robin's opening line. If it went over well, he'd be sure to use it himself someday, not that he needed any help with the ladies.

Annora, pleased by the flattery, smiled at the stranger. Her ancient attendant who had raised her from the cradle, was far less pleased.

Grinning jauntily at his instant success, Allan continued his act. "Such a beauty deserves nothin' but the finest jewels to highlight your many charms! All the gentry buy from me, Madame, especially the Earl of Huntington himself, my very best client. Allow me to show you my wares!"

"The Earl of Huntington?" Annora repeated, flushing, then going pale and weak kneed. "You mean...Robin Hood?"

"The very same."

"Let me see! Let me see! They're beautiful," Annora gasped, not knowing any better that Maggie's "jewels" were only made of paste. "But I can't buy any right now. I could ask my husband for money, but he's..." she sniffled, miserably. "He's unhappy with me."

"All the more reason to show off your charms, covered in these priceless gemstones," Allan coaxed.

"I told you, I can't pay right now."

Knowing his goal was to get Annora to wear the jewels, Allan decided to deviate from Robin's script, saying, "Oh, but these aren't for sale! Because of your beauty, I was sent by a secret admirer to present these to you as a gift. His only wish is to see you decked out in them, Madame."

Annora's hand flew to her throat. "A secret admirer? Then, it's true! He loves me!" Her face lit up in a smile, and she gave a little scream. "He loves me!"

"Yeah, well, who wouldn't?" Allan grinned back, proud of his success. "Take these jewels with his compliments, and be sure to tell Her Majesty the Earl of Huntington gets all his jewels from me."

Annora wasn't listening, so rapt in blissful ignorance of the truth that she kissed each piece of jewelery, over and over again, then turned without so much as a goodbye, to be alone with her joy, and her "gift," in her bedchamber. Huffing, her old attendant followed.

"Like takin' candy from a baby," Allan boasted, when Robin reappeared. "Oi! Why are you lookin' like you swallowed your tongue?"

Robin slowly let the air out of his cheeks, then dismissed his forebodings. "It'll be alright," he assured himself. "You didn't say I was the admirer, after all. Pretty lass like that's bound to have one or two admirers."

"Not my type," Allan snorted.

Annora wasn't Robin's 'type' either, but he was far too much of a gentleman to say so.

"Now what?" Allan asked.

"Now," Robin answered with a grin, "we tell her the Queen has sent for her, and watch the fun unfold."


	33. Chapter 33

Isabella, beautifully attired in a sumptuous dressing gown and her new emerald earrings, was happily engaged in two of her favorite pastimes. Sitting before her mirror, she was coolly admiring her reflection as one of her ladies combed her hair, while busily plotting the glorious demise of Robin of Locksley and his goodie goodie wife.

Her evilly erotic thought of slowly licking the cleft in Robin's chin, then lustfully kissing him goodbye forever while Marian was forced to watch, was interrupted by another of her ladies nervously announcing, "Pardon me, Your Majesty, but the chancellor's wife is outside the door of your entry chamber, insisting you'd sent for her."

"Send her away," Isabella ordered. Changing her mind, she amended, "No, wait! Admit her, and leave us. I wish to have a word in private with Mistress Fitzhugh."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

An uncomfortable, but "jewel" bedecked Annora was ceremonially ushered in, and made even more nervous when all the queen's ladies departed.

Ignorant of proper protocol, Annora wasn't sure what to say or do, but she was curious about the queen's chambers. Looking eagerly about, her eyes dismissed the elegant but coveted the ostentatious furnishings and possessions they spied.

"How good of you to come," Isabella slyly commented, her tone dripping with honey. Noticing the obviously fake jewelery, she continued, trying to keep her voice from sounding too mocking, "And how lovely you look! What marvellous jewels, and so many, for such an early hour."

"They were a gift," Annora breathed, treading on air at the thought that Robin Hood truly loved her.

Isabella couldn't hide her sneer, so like her brother Guy's. "Your husband is certainly generous. Mine is, as well! Just see the earrings His Majesty gave me, straight off the earlobes of Lady Locksley! I don't usually wear emeralds. Blood red rubies are my favorite, but these are quite nice, don't you agree?"

Unbeknownst to either woman, their conversation was being listened to through the door by the highly attuned ears of Robin of Locksley, while his good friend Allan a Dale stood guard. Both men wore the disguises of castle guards.

"They're pretty," Annora agreed, still nervous, for the queen reminded her of a prowling cat, hunting its prey. "But they would be, since they came from the same jeweler as mine. After all, He bought them."

No longer even trying to hide her sneer, Isabella stared silently at the chancellor's foolish young wife. "What are you saying, girl?" she asked, after recovering from her surprise.

"Robin bought them. All of them. And he...he...never mind."

"It's good we're such friends, that I don't insist you address me correctly, as 'Your Majesty,' " Isabella continued, with sarcasm.

Outside the door, Robin stiffened, second guessing his plan. He hadn't meant to thrust Annora into danger. "What have I done?" he whispered to himself, wishing he'd done as Allan had suggested, and merely broken into Isabella's rooms to steal back Marian's earrings. But it was too late for regrets. If anything happened, he'd just have to make it right.

Robin could picture Isabella eyeing and circling Annora, as she spoke her next words. "Tell me, my dear, did your husband buy you those jewels, because of your brutal ordeal with Locksley? You shouldn't have dropped the charges against him so readily, despite the Queen Mother's ill timed visit. Locksley needs to pay, you know, for what he did to you."

"It was all a terrible mistake!" Annora hastened to assure the queen. "He didn't rape me. He was always a perfect gentleman!"

"Perfect, yes," Isabella agreed. "Perfect in all the best, and worst ways! He is quite the speciman, I'll agree. And I can see that you, too, appreciate his...qualities. Tell me, my dear, have you ever imagined how it would be to feel all that energy and virility between your thighs?"

Enjoying Annora's gasp and obvious embarrassment, Isabella continued. "I felt it, one marvellously sunny afternoon, in a meadow. The trouble, of course, came afterward, with his smoted conscience. Oh, Robin was so kind, and so regretful, and what could I do but take drastic measures, just to feel that energy again? Just like me, you wish he had raped you, don't you? Don't cringe! We're both women. I know."

Outside in the corridor, Robin cringed, just as Annora must have done within. Because of Isabella's treachery, he hated his plan now, wishing he'd never come up with it. The only thing he was thankful for, was that Marian wasn't here, listening to Isabella's evil words. Opening his eyes again, he blinked rapidly three or four times, bowled over by one of the biggest surprises of his life.

Marian _was_ here. Dressed as the Nightwatchman, in a pair of his trousers that were a terrible fit, she stood not five feet from him in the hallway, her beautiful eyes unmistakable behind her mask, staring surprisedly into his startled ones.


	34. Chapter 34

"Aw, no," Allan sighed, spying Marian. "Not you again. Not bein' funny, but it's the knocked up Nightwatchman. I thought I burned that get up."

"What are you doing here?" Robin demanded, his voice all at once angry, frustrated, and somehow, resigned.

Marian didn't answer. Just wearing the disguise again brought back feelings she'd thought were lost to her, feelings of empowerment and triumph over evil, and she wasn't about to lose them by arguing with her husband, much as she usually enjoyed that pastime. No. The Nightwatchman didn't speak, ever, lest her voice reveal her true identity.

But Robin wasn't about to be ignored. Closing the gap between them, his eyes challenged hers as he chided, "Tell me you didn't ride here, Marian."

"What do you think?" she shot back, pulling the scarf from her face, unable to keep quiet. "That I'd disreguard Matilda's orders, not yours, mind you, for a pair of earrings?"

"It wouldn't surprise me."

"You're smug."

"You're reckless."

"Me? What about you?"

"I'm not the one carrying our child!"

"Oh, so I'm only a breeding mare now, am I?"

"I never said that."

"You implied it."

Throughout the heated exchange, Allan watched from under his guard helmet, a wide grin on his face. He never tired of watching Marian get Robin's goat, or he hers. The air was so charged with sparks, the very flames in the wall sconces seemed to flare brighter.

Robin, sensitive to his wife's hurt feelings, was trying to make amends. "I did not mean that, Marian. You know I love you. But you shouldn't be here. I have everything under control, with Allan's help."

"You look ridiculous," she bit back, even angrier.

"Whoa!" Allan butted in. "I think I look gooooood. If anybody looks ridiculous here, it's you."

"How dare you?"

Allan hadn't counted on both Marian and Robin turning on him with so much vehemence. Throwing up his hands, he backed off, making the excuse, "I'm only sayin', you're starting to show, and... Is this how Much feels?"

"Most of the time," Robin acknowledged, tartly. Looking deeply into Marian's eyes behind her mask, he tenderly told her, "Go home, my love. This is no place for you. The castle's full of vipers, with the king and queen, and all John's fawning snakes, ready to do his bidding. I'll get your earrings back, I promise."

"Sir Hiss," Allan jested, interrupting again. "Look, not bein' funny, but why don't you just buy her a new pair? You're rich now, oi?"

"It's not the money," Marian told him, so frustrated she wanted to cry. "It's...it's the idea of _her _wearing them."

"They were a special gift, when Ellie was born," Robin explained, longing to comfort Marian in his arms, but knowing she'd push him away.

"What a charming scene!"

Isabella suddenly appeared in her doorway, startling them and making Marian jump. "But as usual, Robin, you're late! The costume party was last night. So, that's where my mask went, not that I cared. It should be a crime, really, to cover up my face, don't you agree, Robin?"

"It ought to be an act of mercy, covering up your mouth."

"Oh! You may cover it at any time, provided you do it with your own mouth. I'm jesting, of course. Kissing you was like kissing a hedgehog. But come in, all three of you. What a surprise you brought Allan along. Your faithful Lord Bonchurch will be wounded!"

"Yeah, he'll be real sorry he missed you," Allan jibed back.

Aside from a quick sneer, Isabella ignored him.

The three former outlaws had no choice but to follow Queen Isabella into her chambers. "You remember Mistress Fitzhugh, don't you, Robin?" she said, as if hosting a party. "Rumor has it that you know her well. What a pity that rape charge didn't stick."

"It wouldn't, because everybody knows my husband is a man of honor," Marian spoke up, seething, even more angry by finding herself face to face with Annora.

The chancellor's wife stood blinking in surprise, staring at Robin with a rapturous expression. He must have come to rescue her, for she'd felt strangely threatened in the queen's presence. How thrilling! He looked very dashing in that guard uniform, too. And she was excited that he could see her, wearing the jewels he'd secretly given her. She couldn't stop smiling, especially because his wife was dressed in trousers, and would be getting heavier and heavier and more and more ackward and ungainly, with every passing month!

"Now," Isabella continued, in her element, "let me understand. You three went to all this trouble, for a pair of earrings?"

"My earrings," Marian clarified, "which your husband stole."

"My husband, the _King_," Isabella pointedly reminded her.

"For once, just be a lady, and give them back," Robin jeered, his chin held high.

Isabella wheeled about to face him, fury marking her features. "You forget yourself, Locksley," she shrieked. "I am your queen! I can order you killed!"

"Sheath your claws," Robin said, laughing. "You're the one who's forgotten. I've been ordered killed more times than you've taken lovers."

"You were the sorriest of the lot!"

Robin cringed, partly because she had shrieked the words in his face, but mostly because he didn't want Marian reminded of his one time love affair with Isabella, when he'd been lost, believing his wife dead.

But now, his course was to get the earrings and get out, without any mishaps befalling Marian. He jumped right back into his revised plan. "Aside from that," he said, cockily, "I could do you a service, while I'm here."

"A service? How very intriguing!"

Robin laughed unpleasantly. Why did she always have to infuse his words with innuendo?

"You have no shame, do you?" Marian couldn't help accusing.

"Shut up!" the queen shrieked.

"Ladies, ladies..." Allan tried to soothe the atmosphere.

Robin took command. "I'm only saying, Isabella, that I can save you a bit of embarrassment, by taking back my wife's earrings, before somebody recognizes the fact that they're, well, fake."

"Fake? You lie! I saw at once their quality! No fake emerald could have that flame of elusive blue at their center!"

Marian, spotting at once that Robin was lying, went along with his plan. "Fake?" she cried out, acting her part well. "You gave me fake jewels? You would!"

Annora was confused, but kept silent, pleased only that his scold of a wife was being difficult again.

"Guilty," Robin lightly pretended to confess. "I bought them off the same jeweler who forged the ones Mistress Fitzhugh's wearing."

Isabella sneered, contorting her beautiful face to an ugly mask. "You want them?" she asked. "Then come and take them off my earlobes, the same way my husband took them off hers!"

Robin took a step backward. "I told you they're worthless," he said, charmingly, then shifted into a more snide tone. "So why would I risk being poisoned, putting my mouth on you?"

Isabella's eyes opened wide in rage, then narrowed at Robin. Without a word, she pulled the earrings from her ears, strode to the open window, and flung them into the moat.


	35. Chapter 35

"Get out!" Isabella ordered, sneering triumphantly at Robin, Allan, and Marian.

Robin was furious. His first impulse was to dive from the open window into the moat after Marian's earrings, but he knew it would be impossible, even for him, to recover them in the thick sludge surrounding the castle.

"Gladly," he fumed back, his teeth clenched in anger.

"Gladly, _Your Majesty,"_ Isabella corrected, snidely. "Say it."

After a brief struggle within himself, he managed to mockingly echo, "Gladly, Your Majesty."

Isabella smiled, her small, sly, satisfied, catlike smile. "Now, kneel, all three of you, and say it in unison."

Allan was the first one down on one knee, able to laugh this off, remembering the time he'd tumbled her. Marian shortly followed, her eyes blazing with hatred. But Robin wouldn't kneel, not until Marian reached for his arm and pulled him to his knees.

"Gladly, Your Majesty."

"Good." Isabella's smile turned to a sneer. "Now, go! STOP!"

At the queen's command, Robin stopped in his tracks. In his hurry to put as much distance as possible between himself and Isabella, he'd quickly risen, helped Marian to her feet, then steered her toward the door without looking back, all before Allan had stood lazily back up.

"Now what?" Marian hissed, for Robin's ears alone.

"Turn around," Isabella ordered, enjoying playing the puppeteer, with Robin and Marian her marionettes. Even the term fit, at least for Robin's goody goody wife.

After they'd done so, Isabella ordered, "Now, exit backwards, keeping your faces to me, bowing and scraping all the way out the door. I'll teach you to show me the respect due me!"

Marian was proud, but she knew they had no choice. "Just do it," she whispered to Robin. "Whatever it takes, just get me out of here!"

Looking deeply into her eyes, Robin gave a sharp nod of his head, then began his backwards departure, dragging Marian along with his long strides designed to get away sooner. Allan lazily sauntered out behind them, whistling.

Still within Her Majesty's chambers, Annora couldn't believe her eyes. Why hadn't he rescued her? Why had he come at all? She gasped out loud as a new thought struck her. He'd only come to see her again, in the jewels he'd given her! Uttering a squeal of excitement, she drew the queen's attention.

Now that Robin had gone, Isabella's triumph turned sour. "Go," she bitterly told the chancellor's wife, almost sorry she'd tossed away the earrings. It would have been so much more fun to continue taunting Lord and Lady Locksley by parading herself with them glittering in her ears!

...

"Well, that wasn't too bad," Allan announced, earning him Robin and Marian's glares. "Oi! Could of been worse!"

Robin looked distraught, finding it difficult to encounter failure.

"It's alright, dear," Marian told him, squeezing his arm. "They're only earrings."

"I'll buy you another pair," he vowed.

"No. I have so much more already."

Allan knew his time had come to go, already feeling an unwelcome third when they were gushing so lovingly toward one another.

"It's been fun," he told them, shedding his guard uniform. "Like old times, 'cept without Much complaining. But I gotta get back to work. Horse fair's in town, and the Trip's gonna be buzzing with thirsty customers."

"Thank you, Allan," Robin told him, sincerely.

"Horse fair?" Marian asked eagerly.

"Yeah. Just outside the town walls. You didn't know?"

She shook her head, and Robin broke into a grin.

"Any chance you can change your clothes, Wren, and be my lady at the fair?"

Marian's smile matched his own. "I changed in our carriage," she told him. "Let me just go back there, and I'll be ready."

Robin grinned approval, his heart suddenly light.

After bidding Allan goodbye and escorting Marian to their carriage, Robin hastened through the castle's outer bailey, looking for a place to stow the guard uniforms. What he saw there made him take in his breath.

"What's this?" he asked a man who was busily engaged hanging a noose upon a newly erected gibbet. "I wasn't told there was a prisoner due to hang."

"It just happened, my lord," the man explained. "The king's barber. Seems King John wasn't happy with his haircut, so..." He finished explaining by gesturing his neck in a noose. "He's set to hang tomorrow."

Robin's eyes burned with fury. "Where is he?" he asked, knowing he couldn't allow the execution to happen.

The man pointed to a window above. "Locked in the keep. Dungeon's full of cutpurses, with the fair in town."

Robin slowly smiled, a plan already springing to life in his mind. Looked like he'd have to secretly be back in Nottingham again tonight, to rescue the king's barber. But first, he intended to show his wife a good time at the horse fair, and maybe even teach the cold hearted Chancellor Fitzhugh a lesson!


	36. Chapter 36

"Tomorrow morning," Robin told his wife, first buying her and then himself a cup of cool apple cider from a booth at Nottingham's horse fair, "we give everybody in Locksley the day off, and bring Ellie here."

Marian's eyes smiled back at him in agreement from over her cup, before scanning the lines of horses for sale. "See any you like?" she asked, pleasantly.

"I like you."

Still smiling, she rolled her eyes. "I was referring to the horses, Handsome."

Robin chuckled wickedly. "What are you trying to do, Marian? Get me to buy you a horse, every time you're expecting?"

"No. Llanrei was quite enough, when Ellie was coming. I'm only asking your opinion. Why else are we here?"

"To watch the horse race, and just maybe, conduct a transaction of my own."

By this time, they'd finished their ciders, and were strolling hand in hand toward the horse vendors.

"The horse race!" Marian realized, stopping and dropping his hand. "Robin! You must enter!"

"You won't be jealous, when I win?"

She scoffed, good naturedly. "Jealous! Think what good we can do for others, with the prize money."

"Alright," he agreed, swaggering, "I'll do it. I'm only sorry you can't enter, so I can get my revenge and leave you behind me, in the dust."

"In your dreams."

Marian smiled proudly, knowing Robin was thinking back to a time when she had been just fifteen, and had secretly enterred a horse race disguised as a boy. Not long into the race, she had outdistanced every other rider but Robin, driving her roan stallion across the finish line before his by a nose, then sending him to claim her prize, when she saw her father would be the man presenting it.

Today, after enterring his name in the competition, they continued inspecting and discussing the horses, Robin completely happy just watching Marian enjoy herself. They were constantly interrupted, however, for Robin was popular among the people, who continually approached him to share a few words, thank him for his many acts of kindness, and wish him and his lady well. Robin thrived on their love, and Marian, grown used to it, merely smiled graciously and continued admiring the horses, all the while marvelling how her husband could lay aside his position and connect to the common people, without losing a touch of his dignity.

Left alone at last, Marian privately told Robin, "I don't think any of these horses are as fine as the ones in our stables," and he agreed.

"It'll be interesting to see how much they go for," he mentioned.

No one purchased a horse the first day of the fair, as everyone knew. Prospective buyers were shrewd enough to wait a few days for the asking prices to come down, and then make their counter offers. And so, it surprised Robin when he was approached by James Fitzhugh, whose excited wife Annora trailed behind him, still wearing Maggie's fake jewels.

Robin had learned from Annora, the night he'd first met her disguised as a monk at her husband's party, that Fitzhugh desired to buy a horse. The London based former merchant had never before owned one, but now believed he should purchase a horse of the finest pedigree, to support his new found station. And Robin, despising the man, was only too happy to "help."

"I hear you have a horse up for sale, Locksley," James Fitzhugh grumbled, swallowing his pride in his desire to buy "the best."

"You heard wrong," Marian stated, not even trying to hide her dislike of the couple.

"Now, Marian," Robin said with a charming smile, "it's possible I might sell one from our stables. After all, you said yourself, think of all the good we can do with some extra money."

"We're not selling our horses," she objected, an attractive flush of color rising in her cheeks. She wouldn't say it, but she'd rather die than sell any of their beloved horses to that foolish Annora Fitzhugh and her cold hearted husband. What was Robin thinking?

The carefully guarded gleam in his eye and his earlier mention of a "transaction of his own" made her realize he was up to something. Marian decided not to stand in his way.

"Which one are you thinking?" she asked, appearing to relent.

His answer made her bite her tongue to keep from laughing. "I was thinking of Willy," he admitted casually.

"Willy" was so named after England's Conquerer King, aptly referred to by all good Saxons as "Willy the Bastard." For Willy the horse had been born after Robin's prized pedigree destrier Achilles had mounted a plough mare, much to Marian's chagrin. In fact, Willy was one of the horses that had pulled their coach to Nottingham today, and anyone with any knowledge of horse flesh could tell by looking he wasn't worth what it cost to feed him.

"Alright," Marian agreed, her eyes sparkling with fun. "But be sure to get a good price."

"How much then, Locksley?" James Fitzhugh asked.

Annora's heart was beating so loudly, she was certain everyone closeby could hear it. And so, even though Robin only looked kindly at her now and again, every glance to her was filled with meaning.

"What do you say to a reprieve for His Majesty's barber?" Robin demanded, no longer playing. "That should more than pay for him."

"Impossible. The king insists, the man must die."

"You have influence, surely. Is your conscience so cold, you'll allow this injustice to happen?"

"What injustice?" Marian asked, alarmed.

Robin quickly explained what he knew, causing Marian's face to pale. "We must stop him!" she cried, and Robin squeezed her hand.

"No one can stop him," the chancellor snorted. "How much for your horse, Locksley?"

Robin's eyes narrowed, just before he named an exorbitant price.

James Fitzhugh balked, for only for a moment. "Very well," he agreed at last. "I assume we shake hands now. Isn't that what's customary?"

Grinning again at the man's ignorance, Robin stuck out his hand, and the deal was done. "He's yours," he told the chancellor, thinking with satisfaction how the man would be laughed at. "Provided you pay me the agreed amount, of course."

"Of course. Come, Annora."

"Well," Robin said smugly, once he and Marian were alone again, "that takes care of this year's taxes for the people of Locksley!"

"What a fool!" Marian said, staring after the chancellor. "But Robin, what are we going to do about the barber? We can't let him hang, for a bad haircut!"

Robin wasn't about to tell her his plan for tonight. He felt that Marian, in her delicate condition, had seen more than enough adventure for one day.

"I think a more pressing question for us right now," he said with a wink, "is how to get you home, with only one horse pulling our carriage."

Marian gasped in surprise. It wasn't like Robin to make light of a hanging, unless...

He was planning something, Marian felt sure, and she didn't appreciate him keeping her in the dark. But before she could open her mouth to object, they found themselves face to face with an angry Maggie.


	37. Chapter 37

Robin's welcoming smile toward Maggie quickly turned to one of embarrassment when the young prostitute began upbraiding him so noisily, she drew a curious crowd of spectators.

"Don't you flash your gap mouthed teeth at me!" Maggie barked at him. "What did you do, givin' my jewels to that pale, pasty, look-down-her-nose-at-me chancellor's wife, when you gotta wonderful woman right here? I want 'em back right now!"

"Those are your jewels?" Marian asked Maggie, alarmed. "Robin! I can't believe you gave that woman anything, after she accused you! If you really need everyone to love you so badly, you really are a fool!"

"Shh!" Robin ordered his wife, finding her onslaught much more severe and disturbing than Maggie's. "It's not what you think, Marian! It was all part of my plan, to get your earrings back!"

"Oh! And that worked well, didn't it?"

"What about my jewels?" Maggie demanded, her ruddy face rivalling the false color of her hair.

"I'll return them to you, I promise," Robin told her, confident he could appease her. The appealing look in his eyes would have melted any woman, but Maggie drew back with a grimace, shook off her disgust, and told him, "You better go get 'em right now! I ain't here to look at horses! I need 'em, to drum up business for the Cherry Pit!"

"Well?" Marian said, unforgivingly. "You heard Maggie! What are you waiting for? Go tell that little fool she's wearing Maggie's jewels."

"I didn't give them to her, Marian," Robin tried to explain. "Allan did!"

"Allan?" Maggie cried out, then swore a profanity so loudly the mothers who were listening covered their children's ears. "Where is he? If he doesn't wanna come see me no more, well, I can take it. But give my jewels to such a shitfaced, prim and touch-me-not, well, that's just..."

Marian put her arm around a stricken Maggie, telling herself she'd have a word with Allan a Dale! She really had no idea Maggie cared so much, but Maggie was hard, and soon brushed off her tears.

A trumpet announced the arrival of the King and Queen, and Marian surprised Robin by dismissing herself, leaving Robin alone to comfort Maggie.

"I'll get your jewels back to you first thing tomorrow," he promised. "I have a plan to steal them back from Mistress Fitzhugh, along with a rescue!"

"You better!" Maggie warned him. "Your face is already smashed in enough, without me having Bruno slug you in the nose. And whatever you do, don't show up so damn early!"

...

Unbeknownst to Robin, Marian had a plan of her own to help save the poor, accused barber. Knowing the king changed his mind more often than he changed his shirt, Marian decided the quickest and easiest way to rescue the barber was to convince the king his new haircut was attractive.

"Your Majesty," she said, dropping a graceful curtsey before his throne on the raised dais.

"Miriam?" King John gasped in delight, while his queen looked as if she'd just swallowed something decidedly sour.

"It's Marian, Your Majesty," Lady Locksley again reminded him. "Forgive my boldness, but I had to come! Your Majesty looks remarkably well today."

"You, my lovely, have our royal permission to be as bold as you like with your sovereign! Come closer. Don't be afraid."

"My king," Isabella snapped, trying to reclaim her husband's roving attention. "Send her away. It is time for you to begin the horse race!"

It was indeed time. Marian quickly glanced back, and caught a glimpse of Robin dashing toward his horse, then vaulting into the saddle over his horse's rump. She couldn't help but smile, admiring his aplomb, but thinking how sore he'd be tonight.

"Looks like Locksley's late again," King John distastefully declared. "Good. Won't it be a splendid change, to watch him lose, for once." Then, without waiting for Robin to be able to take his place beside the other riders, the king dropped his handkerchief and announced, "Be off!"

"Come, my dear," he lustfully coaxed Marian. "Sit with me."

"Your Majesty," Marian said, watching as Robin made up the distance between himself and the other contestants, "I am honored, but really, there's no place for me to sit."

"Sit here, on my lap," the king coaxed, holding out his arms.

Isabella bit her lips in anger. "My king," she begged. "I am your queen! You wouldn't flaunt your attentions to this pregnant woman before all these people, with me beside you?"

John turned smilingly toward her, while Marian continued watching the race. "Wouldn't I? But no, my sweet. I intend to give the lovely Lady Locksley all my attentions, in private! I'm only asking her to take an available seat, on my lap. Nothing remiss." His tone turned harsh and threatening. "But if you find it so, you had best watch your back, lest you meet a worse fate than my first wife."

Marian found herself too engrossed in the horserace to pursue her plan of flattery, at least for the moment. Robin's horse had pulled ahead, but was being challenged by a dappled grey, so beautiful that Marian almost pulled for him to win.

Robin was thrilled by the challenge of the horse thundering alongside his, making up his mind then and there to buy him for Marian before the fair was over. As the last final yards between himself and the finish line closed in, he'd thought of an even better gift he could give his wife, in addition to the grey.

The race was over, and Robin had won by a length. Congratulating the second place finisher, he asked for a word with him later, then strode toward the royal dais to claim his prize.

The king hadn't paid much attention to the race, and was in a foul mood when he saw that Locksley had won. But Marian, wanting to save the barber, flashed her dimples at him, just as Robin drew near enough to see.

"Marian?" Robin asked, confused and jealous.

"Congratulations," she told her husband. "I was just telling His Majesty how much I like his hair! Doesn't he look handsome?"


	38. Chapter 38

"Come, my dear," King John whispered in Marian's ear, so quietly even Robin's acute hearing could not make out his words. "Let us retire to my bedchamber, where you may run your fingers through my new haircut as much as you desire! I'll mould your body to mine while it's still luscious, before it mushrooms out too hideously. Come."

Marian, prepared for some kind of unwelcome invitation from the king, masked her scorn and disgust by pretending to swoon.

Immediately, Robin caught her in his arms, fooled as easily as the king by her act.

"Marian?"

Her husband's voice was worried well beyond concern, but she dared not give herself away by giving him any sign of her deception. "Take me home," she begged him weakly, hoping her flattery toward the king might have been enough to free his barber.

Robin lifted her limp body in his arms, preparing to carry her to their carriage.

"She swooned!" the king proclaimed, not knowing whether to be disappointed or complimented. "I'm not surprised."

Pouting, he huffed out an impatient sigh. "I suppose I'll just have to schedule our tryst for later. Don't keep me waiting, my dear. Who knows how long before your voluptuous curves swell, turning you into a whale! I don't care for fish, you know. I'm forced to eat entirely too much of it as it is, with the Holy Mother Church insisting on its never ending string of fast days."

His voice changed again, and Marian didn't know which she hated worse, his spoiled petulance, or his now simpering, lustful tones. "Send me word of your recovery, my beauty," he wooed her, "for I've waited far too long already to sample the delights of your table."

"I guess you're just going to have to stay hungry, since it's too much to expect you to cull your desires," Marian heard Robin angrily tell the king. "You'll be waiting past Judgment Day, for to reach my wife, you'll have to first get by me."

"You dare to threaten your monarch?" King John accused.

"I make no threats. I'm promising you, King John, try laying one finger on my wife, and I'll-"

Meaning to help, Marian stopped his angry flow of words the only way she knew how, by digging her nails into his already sore wrists. But the damage had already been done.

"Treason!" the king cried out, leaping to his feet. "Arrest Locksley!"

"Please, Your Majesty," Marian begged, surprising everyone by seeming to make an instant recovery. "Spare my husband, and make me the most grateful woman in Christendom! Arrest him, and I'll sink into a grief so deep, I'll do nothing but weep and moan, endlessly."

"Arrest him!" Isabella shrieked, deciding the king against it, since it was such good sport to vex her. Besides, the thought of the beautiful Lady Locksley indebted to him was too tempting to pass up.

"Very well, my dear," the king told Marian. "But don't forget, my mercy comes with a price. A pretty price, you may be sure, but a price all the same. I'll send for you. Now, go, and take Locksley with you. Bored now. Begone."

...

The ride back home to Locksley was as tense as might have been expected. Robin fumed silently within the carriage alongside a grim and equally silent Marian. The carriage was confining, thick with tension, and Robin almost wished he was walking home, since he'd hitched his horse to pull the coach, having deposited Willy on a much poorer but unsuspecting James Fitzhugh.

Unable to remain silent any longer, Robin finally exploded, saying, "You're playing a dangerous game, Marian."

"I was trying to save an innocent man from hanging. I can handle the king, Robin."

"As well as you could handle Gisbourne? I remember you telling me on more than one occasion you could handle him, and look what happened! In case you've forgotten, you ended up engaged, or stabbed, or dead-"

"I'm not the one who was nearly placed under arrest today! You're welcome, by the way, for saving you."

"And what's your plan now, when the king sends for you? Sweet talk him about his new haircut again? Bad idea."

"It worked, Smugly, or I hope it did. I wouldn't be surprised if he asks his barber to always style his hair that way."

"You haven't answered my question, Marian."

"You haven't asked me nicely."

Robin gritted his teeth, heaving out a hot sigh of frustration. Her stubbornness knew no limits!

"Alright then. I can be every bit as nice as the king. Tell me, voluptuous lady, before you mushroom out to the size of a whale, what you mean to do, when His most chivalrous and attractively coifed Majesty summons you to his bed?"

"Grow up."

"Answer my question."

"Are you commanding me now?"

"As your husband, yes."

She stared back at him, somewhere between tears and mocking laughter. Robin pressed on.

"Why is it, everyone listens and obeys my commands, but you?"

Marian couldn't believe his attitude. "Stop the coach," she ordered the driver, pounding her fist on the wall nearest him.

"Now, what do you think you're doing?" Robin demanded, completely taken aback.

"One of us is walking home, preferably you," she answered. "I refuse to ride with a man who wants to make me his puppet."

"Pup-" Robin's mouth hung open, while he stared at her in amazement, unable to speak.

The carriage drew to a stop, and Marian, not even looking at him, ordered, "Get out."

For the second time that day, he answered a woman telling him to get out with a curt, "Gladly."

The exchange recalled Isabella's earlier words, supplying Marian with her parting shot. "Isabella was right about one thing," she told him through the open door, while he gathered his bow and strapped on his quiver. "Kissing you _is_ like kissing a hedgehog!"


	39. Chapter 39

Arriving home on foot, Robin was told by Thornton that he could find the Mistress and his child in the stables, feeding apples to their horses. First depositing his bow and quiver with his elderly stewart, Robin turned on his heel and strode there, to confront his wife.

One glance at her husband informed Marian his long walk home had done nothing to quench his temper. Robin appeared to be bristling with anger, his jaw clenched, his eyes smouldering. The sight of him so furious first made Marian suck in her breath. Then, drawing upon her own proud spirit, she set her jaw, rolled her eyes, and tossed her head imperiously at him.

The sight of her luxuriant hair bouncing upon her beautiful head made Robin even angrier, for he knew King John would never forget his demands with so much incredible beauty at store.

Ellen toddled delightedly toward her daddy, and his face softened as he scooped her up in his arms and held her small cheek against his own. "Ow, Daddy! Scratchy," Ellen told him.

"Hedgehog," Marian couldn't help saying, flinging the insult at him with as much force as she used aiming her dagger at a treetrunk. Robin's eyes hardened.

"Daniel," Marian told the stable boy, who had been enjoying treating the horses with her, "why don't you take Ellie in the yard to play? The master and I would like a few words alone."

"Yes, Your Ladyship," Daniel agreed, taking hold of Ellen's hand after Robin reluctantly set her down. "Come on, Ellen. Let's look for tadpoles!"

"Not too close to the pond," Marian cautioned, remembering having fallen into it once herself, when a very small child.

The memory made her angry, for it had been Robin who had saved her, pulling her up from under the depths when her heavy skirts had dragged her down. She didn't wish to feel grateful to him right now, not at all, while he was being such a tyrant.

"I'm surprised you want to talk to me, after banning me from my own coach," Robin told her smugly.

"I thought it was _our_ coach," she shot coolly back. "And to be truthful, I don't. I just didn't want you ranting in front of the children. Well? What did you want to tell me? That I made a mistake, complimenting the king's hair?"

"Yes, you did. You have no idea what he expects of you now, Marian. You've never heard him boast of his amorous exploits. I have."

"Yes, you men engage in such upstanding conversations, when women aren't around."

"That's not fair."

Marian knew it wasn't. Robin never discussed women lewdly, believing as he did in the Code of Chivalry. "Sorry," she admitted grudgingly. "But the point is, you have no faith in me."

"He's the king, Marian! When are you going to learn, you can't smile at men who hold power but no scruples, and expect them not to want you?"

"I can't smile? Don't be ridiculous."

"You think you can play the vigilante, dressing up as the Nightwatchman, when you should be home-"

"What? Doing my embroidery?"

"I did not say that."

"Only because I stopped you."

"Alright then, yes! I mean it, Marian. You need to stay home, where you're safe, and let me take the risks."

That was too much. Marian stood stock still, staring at him, speechless. Regaining her tongue at last, she scolded, "You knew who I was when you married me, Robin. How dare you try to make me into a milksop, like Cecily. You should have married her when you had the chance, or any other of the countless women who blush and droop, whenever you look their way. Too bad that silly Annora already has a husband! She'd make you a fine wife!"

"I don't want another wife, Marian. I want you to use your head, and avoid danger! I want to protect you!"

"I don't need your protection! I'm perfectly capable of looking after myself. What happened, Robin, to your claim, 'Together we're stronger?' What happened? You know as well as I, that I've rescued you as many times as you've rescued me."

"And I'm grateful. We _are _stronger together. Just not while you're with child."

"Oh. So I _am_ a breeding mare then."

"No! Stop putting words in my mouth. You're my wife, my beautiful, willful wife, who doesn't know when to stay out of trouble."

"Trouble? You're a fine one to talk! Just because you're not carrying our child, doesn't mean your life is any less important! What do think it would do to Ellie, to lose you? What do you think it would do to..."

"What?" he asked softly, for her voice had caught in her throat, while tears threatened to spill from her eyes.

"Nothing," she told him, turning away, trying to hide her vulnerability.

When she found herself safe within his arms, she couldn't stop her tears from flowing.

"Shh," he comforted, holding her close. "It's alright. We both take too many risks."

"We'll never stop, will we? Not while there's injustice. Promise me, Robin. Promise me, we won't stop."

"I swear it. But maybe, while you're carrying our child, you might slow down a bit."

"I might," she answered, then jokingly added through her tears, "but where would be the fun in that?"

Robin lifted her chin and kissed her gently, then wiped her tears away. Holding her close, he knew he'd just have to protect her from her own recklessness. For she wouldn't change, any more than he would. She wouldn't be Marian if she did, and he might not love her as completely.


	40. Chapter 40

Climbing into bed that night, Marian cocooned under the bedclothes, exhausted but happy.

The familiar sounds of the manor settling down for the night, shutters closing, goodnights spoken, footsteps receeding, brought a contented sigh to her lips, and she closed her eyes, knowing all was well in Locksley.

Within a few short moments, Robin enterred their chamber, and Marian opened her eyes to smile at him as he undressed. His body, marred by battle scars, was nonetheless a sight so beautiful, Marian never tired of feasting her eyes upon it. Tonight, through eyes that blinked, fighting back sleep, it blurred against its own shadows, cast from two burning rushlights.

There was barely any moon tonight, so Robin left the rushlights burning, knowing he'd need their dim light to see by, once Marian was safely asleep. It wasn't that he wanted to deceive her by hiding his plan. It was necessary, he told himself, to keep her safe. If all went well, and he was confident it would, he'd be safely back in bed tonight before she awakened.

Once he had climbed into bed beside her, their bodies snuggled together almost instinctively, for they were deeply in love and longed for one another's touch.

Robin lay on his back, his arm protectively around his wife, his hand resting lightly on the small bulge on her belly. As he lightly traced caressing circles over where their baby lay growing, he pressed his lips against her hair, kissing her goodnight.

Tired as she was, Marian wanted a real goodnight kiss. Disentangling herself from his arms, she lifted herself on one elbow, ran her other hand through his hair, and sweetly kissed his mouth.

"What's wrong?" she tenderly asked him, for his kiss was decidedly self conscious, nothing like the warm and loving kiss she'd been expecting. "You're not still angry?"

"Angry? No."

Her cocky Robin seemed embarrassed, a feeling so foreign to him, Marian at first couldn't recognize it. Kissing him again, her eyes opened wide in surprise and amusement when she realized what was wrong.

"Robin, I love your beard," she assured him, smiling brightly.

"So, it's not like kissing a hedgehog?" he chuckled back to her.

"Never having kissed a hedgehog, I couldn't say. All I know is," she told him, temptingly running one finger over his mouth and along the scruff on his face and neck, "I adore kissing you."

He pulled her to him to kiss her again, all hesitation gone. He knew her skin would feel like warm silk beneath her gown, but he also knew she was tired, and needed sleep. Holding back the passion her closeness stirred within him, he kept his kisses chaste and tender, perfectly content to hold her in his arms until she dropped softly off to sleep, too tired tonight even to talk.

Once he was certain she was in a sleep so deep she wouldn't feel him leave her side, he eased himself from the bed, quickly dressed and armed himself, and stole away into the night, back to Nottingham, with two missions on his mind.

...

Years of practice, coupled with the absence of Sheriff Vaisey expecting him, made his stealthy entrance into Nottingham Castle almost too easy.

Despising the sight of the gibbet ready to hang an innocent, Robin chuckled wickedly under his breath as he dislodged the heavy rope. Why not use it for good, instead of evil?

Tying it securely to an arrow, Robin bounced it in his hands, judging the weight and pull it would have upon his arrow's flight. He broke into a jubilent grin when his arrow soared true, straight through the window of the keep, where he believed the barber was passing a sleepless night.

Robin couldn't tug on the rope dangling from the keep's window, for its end was well above his head. He could only hope his arrow lodged deeply embedded in a wooden beam so the rope would hold him, as he leaped and caught its end to begin pulling himself up.

In no time at all, he had scaled the wall and climbed through the window, ready to shush the prisoner and assure him he meant him no harm. But the room was empty.

Where was the barber? Had he heard wrong, or had the man been moved to the dungeons? Robin froze with unblinking eyes, trying to think what he needed to do.

There was no remedy but to try the dungeons, though that would require an entirely more intricate plan. Pulling his arrow from the beam where it rested, Robin untied the rope and let it fall to the ground beneath the window. Gone were the days when he'd leave his taletell arrows behind to mock the sheriff. Now, no longer outlawed and with everything to lose, his part in this rescue must remain a mystery.

Drawing forth the snake shaped lockpin Marian had long ago slipped him, he placed a kiss upon it, then tried it in the door's lock, only to find he didn't need it. The door was already unlocked. Of course! Why lock a door, when there was no prisoner within? Taking it as a good omen, Robin cautiously pushed open the door, and crept into the corridor.

Rather than heading straight to the dungeons and having to backtrack later, Robin decided to complete his second mission and recover Maggie's "jewels" from Annora Fitzhugh's bedchamber.

It felt odd to think of anyone sleeping in those chambers other than Marian, but Robin was glad it was the case. His love slept forevermore in his bed, and he wanted nothing so much as to complete his missions so he could return to her warmth.

His lockpin proved useful now, as the lock on Annora's door sprung open. Silently, he crept into her room.

He was surprised not to find her elderly attendant sleeping here tonight, but confidently took it again as a good omen. Sneaking through Annora's pitch black bedchamber, looking for Maggie's jewels, he silently cursed himself when his knee knocked against a small table, rattling its wooden legs upon the flagstone floor.

"Who is it?" Annora's voice called frightenedly from behind the bedcurtains.

Robin froze. It seemed his good luck had run out.


	41. Chapter 41

"James? Is that you?"

Hearing Annora's frightenened voice, Robin's first impulse was to run. His second was to stay and talk his way into accomplishing his mission, the retrieval of Maggie's jewels. He chose to stay.

"Don't be alarmed," his golden voice told the timid young woman through the darkness. "It's only me, Robin of Locksley. I mean you no harm."

For a moment, Annora wondered if she was still dreaming. The queen's admittance of an erotic liason with Robin in a sun drenched meadow had conjured up a similar dream in Annora's sleep, with herself in Isabella's stead. In fact, she'd hated to wake from it. But, now! He was here, in her bedchamber, in the flesh, drawn to her because of love!

"Robin," Annora breathed, pulling open the bedcurtains, her heart pounding. "I'm so glad you're not really a monk!"

Robin breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared Annora was going to be sensible, and not scream. "May I light a candle?" he politely asked. "No sense fumbling about in the dark."

Annora giggled. "I highly doubt you 'fumble,' dark or light," she told him, eagerly. "But yes, light one. I want to see you!"

The unmistakable warmth in her voice set Robin on edge. She wasn't still deluded about his feelings, was she? He was pretty sure he'd made himself clear that day in his stables. Striking a flint against his dagger, he found a candle and lit it.

One look at her eager, yearning face warned him she _was_ mistaken. He set about at once setting her straight.

"Annora," he began, nervously, "I owe you an apology, another one, it seems. I'm truly sorry, but I used you today, to try and get my wife's earrings back. Nothing is what it seems. The jewel merchant wasn't a merchant, the jewels aren't real, and mostly, this isn't a clandestine, romantic visit. I snuck in here to steal back the jewels. They belong to-"

"You're nervous!" she interrupted, clearly not having listened to a word he'd said. "I'm scared, too. But it's alright! It will be wonderful, my darling!"

"I'm not your darling. I'm not even your friend. I used you, and I'm sorry. I won't do it again. Now, please, if you could tell me where you keep your jewels, I'll just take back the false ones, and be on my way. No harm done."

"No harm? What are you saying?"

Her voice was grief stricken, and he feared she'd burst into tears. Despite his better judgment warning him to stay back, he approached the bed.

"Annora." He seemed so gentle, so careful not to hurt her. "You must forget me. I've used you sorely, a thing I never should have done. I love my wife. Please forgive me, and don't cry."

With him so close, crying was the last thing on her mind. Her heart was pounding fiercely, her head swimming. "I know you feel bad," she told him, lost in the depths of his eyes. "You're so perfect! But Love can't be denied."

"I don't love you! I only want-"

Without warning, Annora rose to her knees and flung herself against his chest. Her arms clutched at him as she pressed her lips to his.

Robin staggered backward, inadvertantly pulling her with him, off the bed. Annora only clung more tightly. Bumping his back against something solid, Robin was forced to stop.

"So, Locksley, we meet again," the venomous voice of James Fitzhugh said. "It seems you have a problem keeping your hands off my wife. But this time, I have irrefutable proof of your crime."

Robin didn't need to pull Annora off him, for at the first sound of her husband's voice, she'd jumped back, afraid. Wheeling about to face his accuser, Robin threw him a helpless, lopsided grin, then darted past him, out the door, in another mad chase out of the castle.


	42. Chapter 42

"Much, wake up! I need your help!"

"Master?"

Much had been dreaming of his days as an outlaw, and so now, pulled from his deep slumber by Robin's urgently pleading voice, he forgot he was no longer a servant, but a lord himself.

His wife Eve, startled awake, was appalled by this midnight visit to her bedchamber, for she thoroughly believed Robin of Locksley frequently took her kindhearted husband for granted. Pulling the bedclothes up to her chin, she made little effort to be polite. "How did you get in here?" she asked.

"Apologies for the intrusion," Robin said, in that natural, charming way he had. "Bonchurch used to be my hunting lodge, before I gave it to Much. And so, I know every way in and out of here." Turning back to Much, he pleaded, "Will you help me, my friend?"

Much needed no persuasion. He was already out of bed, struggling to disentangle his legs from his floor length nightshirt so that he could shove them into his trousers. "Of course! Of course I will!" he flustered. "Is it Marian? Is it the baby? Oh, no! I knew Marian would come to trouble, capering about! I knew it!"

"Marian's fine, Much, thank God. It's an innocent man, the king's barber. He's due to hang in a few hours, unless we rescue him. I tried saving him on my own, but they've moved him from the castle keep, and I can't free him from the dungeons without your help."

Hearing Robin's lengthy explanation, Much froze, one foot partway through a trouser leg. Losing his balance and falling on his rump, he threw up his arms in a gesture of frustration, crying, "Unbelievable! You barge in here and wake me and my wife up in the middle of the night, to save a man who doesn't need rescuing? Very funny!"

"It's no joke, Much. I'm not trying to trick you. The king will hang him."

"No he won't. Don't you know anything?"

Robin didn't answer, only stared at Much, waiting for an explanation.

Naturally, Much was happy to supply it. "The king pardoned that barber, after you took Marian home from the fair today, or was it yesterday? What time is it, anyway?"

"He pardoned him?" Robin asked, incredulous. "You're sure? That's good, but why?"

Much gave Robin a triumphant smile, pleased for once to know more than his friend. "He made a proclamation that he'd changed his mind about his haircut. He said your wife found it attractive!"

Robin needed a moment for Much's words to sink in. "So, Marian's plan worked," he finally managed to say.

"What plan?" Much grew anxious again, not understanding. "What plan, Robin? I don't understand."

A relieved smile stretched across Robin's face, brightening the room. "It seems I woke you for no reason," he said, grinning. "Sorry about that."

"Is it breakfast time?" Much asked, suddenly hungry. "Stay and eat with me, Robin."

Eve groaned, pulling a pillow over her head.

"Go back to bed, Much," Robin advised. "I need to get home, and go to bed myself. Everyone in Locksley's going to the horse fair tomorrow, myself included. I'll see you there."

Before Much could mention he hadn't been planning to attend, Robin was gone, disappearing just as suddenly as he'd appeared.

"How does he do that?" Eve asked her husband, reappearing from under her pillow.

"He's Robin," Much proudly answered. "Now, I wonder what we're having for breakfast? I could do with some eggs and bacon. Or maybe ham. No, bacon, I think."

"Goodnight, Much," Eve smiled, kissing him.

...

"Good morning, Slug a Bug," Marian's lovely voice teased, when Robin finally opened his eyes the following morning.

Robin pulled himself up on his elbows, blinking at the light streaming through his window. He was surprised it was so late, for Marian was already up and dressed for the fair, sitting on the bed with Ellen on her lap.

Grinning, Robin reached for his child, lifting her high above him before setting her down to straddle his chest. "You two look gorgeous," he told his wife and daughter. "I'll be the envy of every man in Nottingham."

"Daddy, horsies." Ellen, clutching her toy horse, was clearly excited about today's excursion.

"Alright, Boo," Robin grinned, handing her back to Marian after giving her a kiss. "I'll be ready to go in the blink of an eye."

Before Marian could rise to lead Ellen away, he'd pulled her to him and kissed her as well, mussing up her hair she'd twisted and pinned up.

"Robin!" she scolded. "Now is not the time!"

Still grinning, he handed her back her hairpin. "Better put this back in," he told her, half seriously. "I just might have need of it today. I hope your aim's still true."

"Aim?" she asked, growing suspicious. "Robin! Were you up to something while I was asleep?"

"You know me," he answered cockily. "Would I ever leave your side, if I didn't have to?"

Unsatisfied, she gave him one of her stern looks, earning her his chuckles, then summoned their daughter away. "Come on, Precious. Daddy needs to dress, and then we can have a nice, long discussion on the way to Nottingham horse fair."


	43. Chapter 43

"I can't understand," Marian was saying as the coach hit another pothole and tossed herself, Robin, and their daughter Ellen out of their seats, "why riding in this is any better for our baby than me riding horseback. I completely agree with Count Friedrick, when he claimed he was scrambled like an egg!"

Robin, holding Ellen on his lap, laughed and told her, "Mama's missing her German beau."

Marian rolled her eyes, amused nonetheless. "He was a good friend to both of us, admit it. He got my ring back."

For a few brief moments, they both gazed happily at the green emerald ring on Marian's left hand, remembering the bittersweet time Robin had first slipped it on her finger, high atop the branches of a tree, in Sherwood.

Robin couldn't resist. Lifting her hand, he pressed a kiss onto the ring's cold, smooth stones. Still holding her hand in his, his eyes met Marian's and held them, conveying all he felt for her better than any words could do.

Another bump in the road broke the spell. Ellen squealed with delight.

"She likes being scrambled! Don't you, Boo?" Robin asked, thrilled by her gurgling laughter.

"It's the new horse," Marian realized. "If you hadn't sold Willy, we wouldn't be half so jostled."

Yet another bump threw Marian's body against Robin's. "I don't know about you," he teased her, not letting her go, "but I like being jostled."

They kissed, not as deeply as they would have liked due to Ellen's watchful eyes, but satisfyingly all the same.

Breaking apart, Marian's eyes sparkled back at him, and she teased, "Time to come clean, Locksley. What happened last night?"

He drew in his breath, then began his confession.

"For one thing," he admitted, "I learned your plan to save the barber worked far better than mine."

"He's safe?"

"For now. That still doesn't get you off the hook. The king's going to want to be paid for his so called mercy."

A dark cloud seemed to settle over the coach, dispelled only when Ellen began to sing.

Robin closed his eyes to listen, breathing in the sweetness of his daughter's scent, trying to banish his fury over the king's desire for his wife. As for Marian, she steeled herself for her likely encounter with King John today, feeling she would be perfectly adept at handling him. After all, she'd handled Gisbourne for years, and he had been far more threatening in her mind than the prancing, mincing king.

"The important thing is," Marian reminded her husband, "an innocent man won't be put to death. Now, you mentioned a plan. What did you do last night, Robin?"

He grinned at her, wickedly. "Nothing I wanted, since you fell asleep."

"Grow up. I'm serious. Tell me."

Her gaze, so intent yet loving, demanded nothing less than the truth. He sighed, growing serious.

"I went to Nottingham," he told her. "I couldn't find the barber, so I snuck into Annora Fitzhugh's bedchamber, to get Maggie's jewels."

Marian, not liking that information one bit, tersely asked him, "And did you?"

Robin shook his head. "She woke up, and thought I'd come to...I think you can guess. I tried to tell her about the jewels, but she flung herself at me, and-"

"She threw herself into your arms?"

"That's not the worst part. Her husband appeared out of nowhere, and accused me of molesting her again."

When Marian could speak again, she asked, "What did you do?"

Robin shrugged. "What else could I do, Marian? I ran."

Robin waited through a few moments of heavy silence, knowing the dam of Marian's emotion was just about to burst.

"Robin!" she cried out at last. "How could you? After everything we agreed upon yesterday, you still went off on your own, keeping secrets from me, when I could have-"

"I've never kept secrets from you! Would I be telling you now, if I did?"

Their raised voices startled their small daughter, filling her bright blue eyes with tears.

"It's alright, Boo," Marian soothed, spying the tears before her husband did. "Daddy and I aren't mad, just bothered. We love you."

"We do," Robin gently assured her. "Shh. It's alright."

Comforted and happy again, Ellen resumed her quiet song, bouncing her toy horse up and down on her daddy's thigh. Robin and Marian resumed their argument, in quieter, more controlled tones.

"The point is, Robin," Marian continued, "our talk yesterday meant nothing to you."

"That's not true."

"Then why did you go off on your own? What if you'd been locked up? I wouldn't even know where you were!"

"I think you'd figure it out, pretty fast."

"I shouldn't have to. And if you'd told me what you were planning, I'd have kept you out of trouble. I would have told you to simply buy Maggie more jewels. There's a booth selling them at the fair, for nothing!"

Robin swallowed, feeling a lot like Much. "There is? For nothing?"

"Pittance," Marian corrected. "Men! Why is it you all think women have no brains, yet need your protection?"

"I did want to protect you, Marian! That's the only reason I didn't tell you. I thought you'd want to come with me."

"If I had, you wouldn't be in danger." She sighed, remembering all the times they'd worked together, side by side, united and successful. The only exception was when she had first joined him in the forest, when she'd not been herself, grieving for her father. Other than that period, when she wouldn't work with him, they moved together as one, sneaking through the castle, running through the forest, defying all odds. Why couldn't he remember?

"I guess we're both facing trouble again today," she said at last. "I've got your back, Robin. I love you."

"And I've got yours. I love you, too."

"Horsies! Horsies!" Ellen cried, bobbing up and down on Robin's lap as she spied the horse fair from the window of the carriage.

"Ready for some fun?" Robin asked, partly grim, partly thrilled by the aspect of adventure.

"Always, with you," Marian assured him.


	44. Chapter 44

Preparing himself for anything, Robin almost felt let down when stepping from his coach and being respectfully greeted by sheriff's men patrolling the fairgrounds.

"Welcome, my lord, milady," several soldiers said, bowing their heads. "Enjoy the fair."

"Thank you," Robin acknowledged, calling each of them by name. Offering Marian his arm after setting Ellen atop his shoulders, he quietly told his wife, "Looks to be an ordinary day at the fair, after all!"

"I hope so," Marian answered back, clearly relieved. "What shall we do first? Ellie might like the puppet show."

A juggler passed by, seeming to swallow a flaming torch. Ellen's eyes grew wide as saucers.

"What do you want to see first, Boo?" Robin asked her.

"Horsies!" she replied, enthusiastically.

Robin and Marian smiled at one another, pleased with their daughter's choice. Robin wanted to get a better look at the dappled grey he was planning to buy to surprise Marian, provided she showed any interest in the gelding.

Before reaching the horses, they stopped to greet Little John, standing alone on a platform, with only his staff for company.

"John!" Robin called out, delighted to see him. "What are you doing up there?"

"Waiting for someone with balls enough to fight me," he growled, pleased all the same at seeing Robin and Marian.

Robin wished his friend had expressed himself in more polite terms around his wife and child, but Marian only smiled, while Ellen pointed to the juggler who was now tossing five balls up in the air.

"Against you, with quarterstaffs?" Robin laughed. "Wait until the ale booths open. There's bound to be a few fools drunk enough to take on your challenge."

"Willwee!" Ellen suddenly cried, spying the nag Robin had sold James Fitzhugh the day before.

Marian was embarrassed for the chancellor, since he didn't know enough about horseflesh to recognize he looked a complete fool astride such an ignoble beast. What was more, he was having difficulty controlling the horse and keeping his seat in the saddle. Still, he held his head high, believing he looked formidably lordlike upon his new horse, oblivious to the snickers surrounding him.

Reaching Robin at the base of Little John's platform stage, he struggled down from the saddle, his thighs and bottom clearly sore, held onto his own reins, and confronted Locksley.

Willy the horse neighed with pleasure and nuzzled Marian, while Robin handed his daughter to her mother, hoping the child's delight at petting the horse would draw her attention away from his upcoming unpleasant interview.

"Glad to see you're enjoying Willy," Robin smirked. "I hope you're treating him well."

"I didn't come here to talk horses, Locksley," the chancellor barked.

Sensing a threat to his beloved friend and former leader, Little John strode protectively nearer, brandishing his staff.

"No?" Robin asked, cocking an eyebrow. "No talk of horses at a horse fair? You're clearly outnumbered then, it would seem." Making his point obvious, Robin folded his arms across his chest, then threw Little John a meaningful glance.

Marian, meanwhile, though pretending to focus all her attention on Ellen and their former horse, was watching and listening intently, well aware of every subtle nuance and threat.

"My wife could not come today," the chancellor coldly continued. "Would you like to know why?"

"I'm sorry to hear that," Robin answered, still smirking. "A bouquet of flowers and a stroll through the moonlight might help."

Little John erupted into a huge snort of laughter, but Marian drew in her breath. _No, Robin. Don't play with fire._

His gibe was not lost on the chancellor, whose face flushed with anger. "My wife is not here because she has taken to her bed!" he shouted, losing his cool, calculated presence in the face of Locksley's smug arrogance. "She is crying, my Lord Locksley! Crying her eyes out, due to you!"

Robin grew suddenly serious. "I am truly sorry if I have upset your wife," he said, sincerely. "Believe me, it was not intentional. But let me ask you this. If she's so upset, why are you here and not by her side, comforting her?"

Fitzhugh regained his cold, icey stance. "I am here, Locksley, to watch you pay."

"What are you planning to do? Arrest me again, for a crime I didn't commit? I doubt the Queen Mother will approve, will she, John?"

Little John uttered a grunt of warning, fixing his dark, threatening eyes on the chancellor.

"There are other ways of making you pay. For instance, my wife tells me you are famous for never turning down a challenge."

"It's an easy thing to do, considering I almost always win."

The chancellor sneered, hating the handsome young lord. "Then take my challenge, and fight that brute with a quarterstaff."

Robin snickered, pointing at Little John with his thumb. "That is one challenge even I won't take! I made that mistake once before, over a bridge in Sherwood, and landed flat on my back in the stream, bruised and sore for weeks."

"Robin," Little John growled, "take it. Fight me."

"You know you want to," Marian whispered to him. "You'll enjoy it, as well as getting that goon off your back."

Robin's entire face lit up. He guessed he wouldn't stand a chance of winning, but it would be fun, all the same. And, as Marian said, it might give James Fitzhugh enough satisfaction so that he could be done with his unfounded jealousy and evil accusations.

"Alright!" Robin announced. "But don't let Ellie watch. She's too young to understand, it'll all be in fun."

"Kiss Daddy for luck," Marian instructed their daughter, then followed by kissing Robin's scruffy cheek as well. "I'll be right back! Don't start without me!"

Word spread quickly, and a crowd soon gathered around the platform, everyone eager to watch a bout between the famous Robin Hood and Little John. Wagers were placed, as many for Robin as for Little John, but James Fitzhugh scowled, unhappy that Locksley was so enjoying himself, the darling of the crowd.

By the time Robin had selected a staff, Marian returned, having left Ellen in the capable hands of Bridget Thornton, who took the small child off to see the horses and to watch the puppet show.

The show on the platform was far more entertaining, however, for not only were the spectators treated to a display of uncommon strength and skill, they enjoyed all the good natured ribbing Robin was giving John. Before long, however, the fight grew more serious, for Robin could almost hold his own against the giant, making up in quickness and agility what he lacked in size and strength.

Marian was so enjoying watching her husband enjoy himself, she didn't notice Queen Isabella sidle up to her.

"Mmmm," Isabella hummed, licking her lips. "This is more than worth the price of admission to the fair! Look at Robin, all sweaty! Salty, too, I shouldn't wonder. Mmmm. I remember just how he tasted, all sweaty from putting out that fire in your village church! He tasted smoky, too, that day, I recall, when he buried himself within my loins, pounding away."

"If you mean to hurt me by your disgusting reminiscences, Your Majesty," Marian snapped back, "you're wasting your breath."

"What? Have you finally reconciled yourself to the fact that Robin and I-"

"It meant nothing. You're shameless to even mention it."

"You forget yourself! I am your queen!"

Biting her lips, Marian gave a brief nod to her head, unable by law to do anything else. Isabella's lips drew back in an arch smile. "So, do you ever hear from my brother?"

Still watching the contest, Marian couldn't help but gasp. "Do you?" she asked.

"Guy wouldn't write to me. We've always hated one another. But you! He loved you, and your feelings for him, as I understand, were quite complicated. Perhaps they still are."

"They never were. I only hope he's found peace, and is choosing to live the life of a decent man now, instead of a killer."

"Oh, that's right. I'd forgotten he stabbed you. Too bad he didn't stay and finish the job, when he had the chance. But then again, I heard he did the same thing to Robin. And both times, in Acre! What a coincidence!"

Marian didn't speak, intent on watching the battle of staffs, hoping Isabella would simply go away. Nonetheless, the queen's words had brought back memories of Gisbourne she wished she could forget. Not only could she picture him lunging toward her with his swordblade, but even worse to her, she pictured him slapping her frail father hard across his face, then pressuring her into agreeing to marry him.

So preoccupied was she between watching Robin and Little John exchange friendly yet still dangerous blows, and her memories of Guy of Gisbourne, she didn't notice the danger about to threaten her.

Robin, enjoying his fight, froze for a moment, staring into the crowd. He could have sworn he'd heard Marian cry out, "Get off me!"

"Marian!" he shouted out, seeing his wife struggling as she was being hauled away by two burly men.

Little John didn't notice where Robin was looking. Instead, he saw his chance to end the fight. With a mighty blow, he brought his staff down upon Robin's head, knocking him senseless.

"Good work, Big Bear," Isabella sneered, exchanging a satisfied smile with England's chancellor.


	45. Chapter 45

It was the smell that first alerted Marian she was in danger, the damp, musty smell of bat droppings upon thick, stagnant, clammy air.

Marian knew, even before forcing open her eyes, that she was once again lying injured in the cave, or rather, in _a_ cave. Yet, try as she might to focus her fog shrouded thoughts, she hadn't a clue how she'd come to be here.

The last thing she remembered was Robin's startled face on the platform, as he spied her being dragged away from the spectators watching him battle Little John. It gave her hope. She knew he would find her, and pull her from this place, and hold her safe in his arms. Even in her drug induced, weakened state, she could almost hear his precious voice.

_I knew I would find you again. _

"Awake at last?"

Another voice broke through her thoughts, a voice so cold and snide, it was like glass shattering. Listening to it made Marian feel as if slivers of glass were poking into the flesh on her arms, legs, and back.

_Isabella._

But why was the Queen of England in a filthy, clammy cave? Fighting through the cobwebs in her brain, Marian forced herself to concentrate and stay awake.

Once her eyes could focus, Marian could see that she was sitting on the floor of the same cave Robin had taken her when she was recovering from Gisbourne's dagger wound, when Djaq had saved her life. Today, her arms and legs were tightly bound, and she found herself dressed in nothing but a loose, plain, itchey peasant's gown. Isabella, fingering a knife, paced gloatingly back and forth before her, guarded by the same two men who had kidnapped Marian from the fair.

"So," Isabella was saying, "I trust you enjoyed your nap. Sorry I had to undress you, but knowing you, I thought it wise not to take any chances. And my suspicions proved right! Just look at the blade I found concealed in your boot!"

Marian tried to answer, recalling how she'd slipped the knife into her boot after Robin had hinted there might be trouble at the fair today, but the drug Isabella had sliced into her bloodstream robbed her of the ability to express her thoughts.

Isabella didn't mind. Indeed, she was enjoying this opportunity to gloat before the woman she hated most in all the world, the woman who had everything she'd ever wanted.

"Sorry for the uncarded woolen dress," she smirked. "I can only guess how it must itch, and chafe your lovely skin!" Laughing a low, mocking laugh, she continued. "Not so lovely after all, now that I've seen all of you! Lucky for you, really! I was all set to mar you with this knife of yours, when I discovered someone had already beaten me to it! Let me guess...my loving brother, Guy? I thought so! Two hideous, brown scars on that otherwise perfect body of yours, not counting of course that mole on your shoulder, nor the other one under your lip. My, my! I suppose Robin must have to close his eyes very tightly indeed, when you're alone together! Or do you do it with your gown on? That was the way we did it, you know. He couldn't even wait for my gown to come off being surging into me, after just one quick glimpse of my thigh. The garter is a much more enticing place to hide your valuables than a boot, I've always found."

"You had better not sleep tonight," Marian warned her, finding her voice at last. "Robin saw me being taken, and he'll find me, and he'll-"

"He'll what? Temptingly flirt with me, under the guise of a warning? Despite your angel face, he still burns for me! He's drawn to danger, and who is more dangerous for him than I, the sister of his enemy? Just as you were always stirred by my brother! Don't deny it. Guy knew."

"You're both deluded," Marian answered, dismissing Isabella's ridiculous, evil claims. "Why are you keeping me here? What have I ever done to you? Free me, now!"

Isabella laughed again. "Struggle all you like. It won't do any good. You're tied with a special knot that only grows tighter, the more you struggle. Now, I need to leave you for a time. Royal duty calls."

Isabella turned and took a few steps toward the cave's entrance. Then, unable to resist gloating further, she turned back and said, "Just so you'll know, you are here so the lord chancellor and I can watch Robin suffer. You see, with the Queen Mother around, there really wasn't any other way, until I thought up this little scheme. And with everyone's attention riveted on the battle between Robin Hood and Little John, no one noticed poor, pregnant Maid Marian carried away from the fair. But don't worry. You won't be stuck in this cave forever. I have a plan for an accident to befall you, my dear. After all, what better way for you to die, than sneaking off on horseback and suffering a fall, breaking your pretty neck? So sad."

Sidling up to one of the two burly guards, Isabella provocatively stroked his thick, muscular arm. "Bruno here," she cooed, "will only be too happy to do the honors, for a price of course. But not until I've finished toying with you. Goodbye, Lady Locksley."

Once she had gone, Marian struggled again with her bonds, giving up when the ropes truly did cut deeper into her flesh.

She'd escape from here somehow, she vowed she would! She'd been in worse danger before, after all, and lived to tell of it. Besides, Ellen needed her. Robin needed her, and she needed them. She would survive, and so would her unborn baby.

Her unborn baby. The thought triggered the memory of Guy of Gisbourne stabbing her in the Holy Land. Miraculously, she had managed to survive, but Robin's child she'd been carrying had not.

"No! I won't let them hurt you," she whispered to her belly.

A low grunt from "Bruno" forced her to study the man for the first time, and hope dawned again.

Marian knew him. She'd seen him somewhere before. If only her mind would clear from the drug's effect, so she could remember!


	46. Chapter 46

"Where's Marian?"

The instant Robin's eyes snapped open, he sat up, grabbed Little John by the arm, and asked the question. The throbbing pain in his head was nothing compared to the fear and ache in his heart.

Marian was in danger...hauled away by two huge ruffians, and no one seemed to care!

Little John, kneeling on the ground beside Robin, dismissed his friend's question with a shake of his shaggy mane, telling him, "Robin, you're no in Acre. You were dreaming again."

"No, I wasn't! I saw her, John! I saw her being dragged away!"

Leaping to his feet, Robin's desperate eyes scoured the fairgrounds. He could see nothing, for the many trampling feet of the fairgoers hid any telltale footprints he might track.

"Marian!" he hopelessly called, not knowing how long he'd been unconscious.

Little John, sure his blow to Robin's head was playing havoc with the man's reason, stood over him, saying kindly, "Robin, sorry. Marian's no hurt."

Robin was instantly sorry himself when he tore a hand through his hair, in a wild gesture of desperation. The pounding behind his temples was like a thousand thundering hoofbeats of Saladin's army. But he didn't care. All that mattered was that Marian was in danger.

"Where is she?" he asked again. "Where's my wife?"

Little John realized he didn't know. Could Robin be speaking truth? He watched as his friend quickly gathered up the weapons he'd laid aside for their quarterstaff battle, his jaw set, his mouth grim and determined, his eyes wild and desperate.

"You've got to help me, John," Robin was saying.

"How?"

"Help me find her...rescue her! Ellen's fine with my staff, but Marian's..."

Robin couldn't speak the words. Little John was confused, not understanding Robin had meant his staff of servants, not the weapon he'd just used in their contest. Staff meant one and only one thing to the giant.

Little John watched in alarm when Robin jumped off the platform and rushed to the horse vendors, throwing a purse full of money at one, then leading a dappled grey stallion toward him.

"I know you're no horseman, but you've got to ride. Head west, I'll go east. We've got to find her, John!"

"Robin, I'm no riding that horse."

"Search the castle then. No, I will! They might have locked her up!"

Robin couldn't think straight. His emotions were just too strong, combined with his blow to the head. "Help me, John!" he cried out.

A young boy's voice calling his name made him stop and look. Daniel, his stableboy, was running toward him, as fast as his legs could carry him. "Master Robin!" the boy cried out. "Your lady wife's in danger!"

Robin didn't wait for the boy to reach him. At the first mention of Marian's plight, he ran toward the boy, closing the gap between them in no time at all.

"Tell me what you know," he ordered.

Little John, realizing the truth at last, lumbered quickly to join them.

It took a moment before Daniel could catch his breath to explain. "I'm your eyes and ears," he said to Robin. "So, I followed those men who'd grabbed Her Ladyship. They took her into Sherwood, and I lost them, but I can show you how far I got."

"Good boy," Robin breathed, praying a silent prayer of thanksgiving. "I can track them in the forest. Show me, now!"

Without having to be asked, Little John followed, nearly as worried as Robin now.

"I'm coming, my love," Robin breathed, sending all his love toward Marian. "I'm coming."


	47. Chapter 47

Pregnancy symptoms that would normally be no more than nuisances grew life threatening, when one was bound and guarded by leering masculine brutes.

Marian shifted uncomfortably on the floor of the cave, the need to relieve herself impossible any longer to ignore.

"Please," she said to her captors, forcing back her shame. "Help me. I need to go."

"Not goin' anywhere, my pretty," one of the men mocked. "Queen's orders."

"You don't understand," she tried to explain. "I'm expecting, and I need to...to relieve myself frequently. Please, untie me. I won't be long."

The man hooted. "We're not lettin' you out, no! You're as slippery as your earl husband! But, go on. What's stoppin' you? You can thank Her Majesty for removin' your fine dress, silk stockings, and filmy underthings. Little pee won't hurt that dress any."

Shifting again, Marian held on, not willing to soil herself like a trapped animal until there was no other way. Still suffering from Isabella's potion, she closed her eyes, and tried to let her mind dwell on pleasant things.

She thought about how it felt, wrapping Ellie's wet, wiggly body in a soft, clean towel, just after Robin pulled her from her bath, their little girl smelling so sweet and looking so trustingly up at her. Dressing her in her long, soft nightdress, combing her fine hair, and tucking her into her nice, warm bed. Smiling at Robin's ludicrous bedtime stories, then kissing their sleepy daughter goodnight before climbing into her own bed, and into her husband's arms. Breathing in his scent, and welcoming his irrestible allure, so strong, so passionate, and yet so tender, too. His kisses, thousands of his kisses, so warm and true and moving. The happy look in his eyes, the adoring look meant only for her.

Would she ever see her family again? Yes, she felt sure she would. Why disappear and die now, after cheating Death twice before? And who could count how many times Robin had cheated it, to live and love beside her?

She felt weak, as if her limbs were made of straw, the effect of Isabella's poison. She knew she stood no chance against the two incredibly strong men watching her, unless she somehow outwitted them.

"Please, Father, help me," Marian prayed, addressing both her heavenly and earthly departed father. Opening her eyes and looking once again at her guards, a surge of hope flowed through her, knowing her prayer had been answered.

Marian realized she did indeed know the guard called Bruno. She'd seen him before working as a bouncer, protecting the women at The Cherry Pit. Lifting her voice, she called out to him.

"Bruno?" she called. "I knew I recognized you! I'm a friend of Maggie, who works at the-"

"You know Maggie?" he asked, clearly surprised.

Marian nodded. "She's a friend of mine, as is Allan a Dale. Do you know him? He's Tavern Keeper at the Trip. He calls Maggie, 'Magpie.' "

"That bug eyed, bulbed nose braggart, what's breakin' Maggie's heart?" Bruno growled.

As Robin was quick to attest, Marian was astute. She saw at once that Bruno fancied Maggie, and was jealous of Allan. If she was to gain her freedom, she needed to use her alliances wisely. "Yes," she answered, carefully. "In fact, I was planning to scold him about that. How is Maggie? My husband and I need to return some jewels of hers we recently borrowed."

The other guard, losing interest, settled back with his wineskin, gulping down ale as if it were water, but Bruno was suspiciously interested in all Marian had to say.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he asked. "How does a fine lady like you know Maggie?"

"She helped us, when we were outlaws," Marian truthfully told him. "My husband is Robin Hood. For a short time, Maggie lived with us, in the forest. She's very sweet, and brave. And only this week, she helped me rescue my husband when he was falsely accused by the chancellor." Letting this soak in, she paused, then wanted to know, "Why are you helping the queen? She's no friend to Maggie."

Bruno hung his head, ashamed. "The Queen's Majesty promised me riches if I helped her with you."

"So you kidnapped me, tied me up, then would break my neck, for money? I wonder what Maggie would have to say about that!"

"Maggie'll never know."

"But you will. You'll never be able to forget. The bad things you do will haunt your dreams. Believe me, I know. If you want to be worthy Maggie, help me go free. Or would you rather kill an innocent woman?"

Bruno gulped, then made up his mind. The other guard was snoring, deep in a drunken slumber.

"I'll free you, even if the queen kills me for it."

"You're a good man," Marian said, thankfully. "And she won't. Robin and I will protect you."

Cutting through her bonds, Bruno almost smiled. "How can a little slip of a girl like you protect a great hulking brute like me?" he asked.

"You'd be surprised," Marian said, borrowing an expression of her husband's, unused to being called a "little slip" of anything.

Freed from her bonds at last, Marian tried to stand, but collapsed to the ground. Her limbs had turned to jelly.

With one heavily corded arm, Bruno swept her up, flinging her over his shoulders.

"Where are we going?" Marian asked, as he took off running through the forest.

"Home," he told her. "Your new home, for awhile anyway."

"My new home? No! Take me to Locksley!"

"Can't risk it, Your Ladyship. You're coming with me, to the Cherry Pit. You'll be safe there. The girls'll look after you fine."

"But...no! I want to go home!"

"Shut your mouth, or it's back to the cave. You have a new life now, away from the queen's claws and fangs. Yes, the Cherry Pit's the only safe place for both of us."

Marian sighed, realizing she had little choice. But at least she was safe. Smiling, she felt proud she'd managed to talk her way free, then grimaced, as evey jolt upon Bruno's shoulders washed waves of pain throughout her body.

Never mind, she thought. Once she regained the use of her legs, she'd flee the Cherry Pit and never look back. Her last thought before she passed out was that Robin must be worried sick about her.


	48. Chapter 48

"I tell you, she's not here!"

Despite his huge size, the brute who'd helped Bruno drag Marian away from Nottingham Horse Fair trembled with fear, deep in a dank, dark cave in Sherwood. Robin of Locksley held him from behind, the curved razor-sharp blade of his eastern scimitar threatening to slice through the man's throat, wearing a look of murder in his eyes.

"Robin," Little John warned. "Stop. _Now."_

"Where is she?" Robin snarled again. Shouting, he demanded, "What have you done with my wife?"

"Nothing, after bringing her here," the man nervously tried to explain. "I don't know where she is now! Bruno must have carried her off, after I fell asleep."

"Tie him up," Robin ordered Little John. "Quickly! We don't have any choice but to believe him, and track that Bruno monster down."

"I beg you," the man cried. "Don't tie me up! If the Queen finds out I let Lady Locksley out of my sight-"

"The Queen?" Robin snarled, gritting his teeth. "I should have known! This reeks of her. Come on, John! Hurry!"

With a fierce growl, Little John pulled the man's bonds so tight, they cut into his wrists. "You, I do not like," he bellowed.

Looking to Robin for leadership, the giant lumbered behind the fleet footed Earl of Huntington out the cave's mouth, through the forest, and back towards Nottingham, as Robin discovered Bruno's trail.

...

Marian awoke confused, in a lumpy oversized bed whose sheets were badly in need of laundering. The room was small and dark, without any window to let in fresh air, not that the air in the town of Nottingham smelled much sweeter than the rank odor in the room.

Feeling weak and nauseous, Marian studied her surroundings, unable to recall where she was or how she came to be here. The room was small and filthy, its massive bed filling all four corners, leaving little room for anything else.

The door creaked open, emitting sounds of raucous laughter, and an aging tart.

"You awake?" the slattern asked, revealing missing teeth to match her once ample, now sagging bosom.

"Where am I?" Marian asked.

"Why, you're in the Cock and Ass, you know, as in rooster and donkey. You'd know if you saw our sign out front. Nottingham's finest bawdy 'ouse, or used to be. Bruno brought you earlier."

Marian still couldn't remember, but was somewhat alarmed at hearing she was in a "bawdy house." What alarmed her even more, however, was the fact she couldn't remember much of anything, least of all her name.

"Forgive me," she pleaded, "but who is Bruno?"

"You don't know?" the woman asked. "Poor lost lamb! But I'll tell you straight out, no lies. Bruno's our muscle. It's him what keeps all us girls safe. Us, and the puffed up trollops at the Cherry Pit."

Marian drew in her breath, unable to make sense of anything the woman told her. "I'm sorry," she sighed, sadly. "I don't understand. I just can't remember."

"Nothing?" the woman asked.

"Not even my name."

The woman grinned, showing gaping gums and rotting teeth. "Well, that's one thing I can help you with, Beauty," she announced. "Bruno says your name's Hortense, and you're a whore, like the rest of us. He says, once you get back on your feet, you can climb right back on your back, and help pull the good old Cock and Ass back to makin' some money again. We been hurting, with all the gents passin' by our door, spendin' all their time and money at the Cherry Pit, or sneakin' upstairs with the tavern girls at the Trip. But with you here, the Cock and Ass's glory days are sure to return! Wait till the gents take a look at you!"

Marian shut her eyes, bewildered by what she'd heard. "I don't understand," she wimpered.

"Don't try to," the woman advised. "I'm called Martha, by the way, but it's Cherie to the gents. French, you know. Makes their c*#ks harder."

Marian shut her eyes tighter, swallowing back the bile that threatened to choke her.

"I think I'm going to be sick," she barely managed to say.

Martha found her a basin, first flicking aside a cockroach that was feeding on something that had dried and hardened in its bowl. Handing it to "Hortense" just in time, Martha watched sympathetically as Marian was sick.

"Try drinkin' more of that tonic Bruno left for you, if you can keep it down. He got it special, just for you. And get some more rest, while its still quiet. We're bound to get some out of towners what don't know any better tonight, so us ladies is bound to be busy, and this place can sure get noisey. Sleep, now, Beauty. I'm off to get the rest of my beauty sleep, too. Night night."

The door shut again, leaving Marian alone with the dirty basin, and a head full of unanswered questions.


	49. Chapter 49

"_The first time I held my bow, I knew. It felt right, like it had been made for me. And that's how I feel about you."_

Marian awakened from her wonderful dream of an incredible man, standing over a grave in the forest, shyly and heartfeltly speaking incredible words to her. Flashes of that man had filled her dreams, appearing in turns as a boy, a lord, a crusader, a fugitive, a prisoner, a father...but always, kind, and bold and brave and true, helping others and loving her.

Who was he? She longed to go back to sleep, just to be with him again.

But the bedbugs infesting her mattress made sleep impossible. On still shaky legs, Marian climbed out of bed and pulled off the only garment covering her, a rough, brown, shapeless, woolen gown, to examine her bug bites by the light of a single, sputtering candle. What she saw upon her skin made her sit back down.

Two large brown scars across her abdomen sent shock waves through her. A flash of memory, no longer than the blink of an eye, showed an image that made her shiver.

A man, tall, brooding, handsome, _angry_, completely dressed in black, appeared for an instant in her mind's eye, frightening her. He wanted something from her, something she didn't want to give him...something she _couldn't_ give, yet she knew he wouldn't rest until he had taken it from her. She shuddered, pushing the image out of her mind.

She had a few bug bites that stung and itched, yet she felt itchy everywhere, from the gown. Her belly looked slightly swollen, and she tried pulling in her stomach muscles, but it didn't help. That was odd, because everywhere else, her body seemed remarkably fit.

Was she...with child? Would that Bruno know? Would it even be safe to ask him? Marian felt angry and impatient, not knowing anything.

She wanted to get out of here, to breathe fresh air again that wasn't putrid. But first, she really needed to pee.

Not finding a chamber pot, Marian winced, realizing she'd need to use the basin she'd been sick in. She was almost sick again when she spied it, crawling with cockroaches breakfasting on her stomach's leavings. But she had no other choice.

Feeling slightly better, she pulled the gown back over her head and wobbled unsteadily to her door. It was locked from the outside.

"Hello," she called through it. "Please, could someone let me out?"

Sounds of raised voices, arguing over money, met her ears. Balling her fist, she began pounding on her door. "Open this door!" she shouted, surprising herself by the regal, commanding tone in her voice.

Thankfully, someone answered her command. An ugly man with a chest as broad as a barrel, with arms to match, flung open the door.

"I assume you're Bruno," Marian said coldly. "I will thank you to not lock me in. I'm not a prisoner, after all."

"But that's where you're wrong, Hortense," Bruno sneered. "You are a prisoner. My prisoner. You work for me now. I own you, and you'll do everything I say."

"I refuse. Stand aside, and let me pass."

Even in her weakened condition, Marian managed to hold her head high, appearing every inch a queen.

But Bruno reminded himself, he was working for the real Queen now. After he'd gone to Isabella and confessed he'd taken Lady Locksley to a bawdy house, he'd been rewarded with a few silver coins instead of the berating he'd been expecting. The Queen seemed thrilled with this new turn of events, giving him a vial of another tonic that would rob the lady of her memory, and detailed instructions to keep the beautiful young woman a prisoner.

"Take that, Robin!" the queen had glowered, triumphantly. "You dared imply I am a whore, by kicking that wig at me! Well! Guess who's going to be a whore now, in reality!"

Bruno was amazed at his good fortune. With Lady Locksley's face and body, he knew he'd soon become a rich man.

But she couldn't be recognized. You never knew who might walk through the door, and know her. Lords, bishops, knights, merchants...all men were the same, when they got an itch and needed it scratched. No. She was standing on her feet again. Time to change her appearance and put her to work.

Lunging toward her, Bruno spun Marian around and shoved her face down on the bed. "Get off me!" she shouted.

Holding her down, he pulled out a knife. "From now on, you'll be a blond," he told her, hacking off her hair at chin level.

Marian struggled, but couldn't fight her way out from under the man's heavy weight and superior strength. As he cut off her hair, another image flashed through her mind...the image of a crowd of somber spectators watching her, the vision of a mild, gentle older man with tears in his eyes, the feel of her head being pulled back as shears cut off her hair, the feeling of humiliation and tears stinging her eyes, the sound of a hated voice trumpeting, "We cannot have challenges to our authority. The law applies to everybody, even the privledged."

"You will pay for this," Marian promised the man, through clenched teeth.

"No," he argued. "It's the gents who'll be paying for you, Hortense. Relax, or they'll be calling you Tense Whore."

Completing his chore of hacking off her hair, Bruno released Marian, holding a thick lock of it in his hand. "Soft," he muttered, fingering it. "Think I'll tie a ribbon around this and sell it at the fair. Never know, some lonely fool might just buy it, finger it when he goes to sleep, pretending he's got a real woman sleepin' beside him."

"You're sick," Marian spat out.

"Stay here," Bruno laughed mockingly at her. "I'll be back with your new trappings."

The door shut behind him, locking Marian in again. Enraged, she fingered the uneven ends of her hair, and gasped, picturing the man from her dreams again.

She was looking down at him, from horseback? He was hurrying toward her, full of energy and purpose, but his handsome eyes under his hood looked startled, and he seemed to blurt out, "Your hair!"

"It was a nuisance to wash," Marian heard her own voice tell him. He seemed to accept her answer, at least, he accepted that was the answer she wanted to give him, which she felt now was kind and respectful of him.

Who was he? She loved him, she knew! She felt it. She needed to be with him, and their...yes! Their daughter!

She could picture her, too; smell her sweetness. What was her name? Why couldn't she remember?


	50. Chapter 50

Mad with frustration and worry, Robin stalked through the fairgrounds of Nottingham Horse Fair, right back where he'd started his search for Marian.

The town's streets had yielded nothing, except for the addition of Allan a Dale leaving his place at the Trip to join Robin and Little John in their search.

"Yeah, I know Bruno," Allan admitted. "Not one of your finer citizens. Protects all the lovely ladies at the Cherry Pit."

A mad dash to the Cherry Pit earned them nothing but tongue lashings from Maggie, whose face alternately fell when spying Robin, but lit up when she discovered Allan had come to see her.

"Where have you been? Why haven't you come see me?" she asked, jabbing Allan's chest with her finger. "You'd think this was a lazar house, and me a leper!"

Allan threw wide his hands. "Naw, Maggie, I still love you! I've just been slavin' away, at the Trip! Gotta earn a livin', same as you!"

Maggie seemed satisfied. Allan could always talk his way around her. Turning to Robin, she next insisted upon knowing, "And where are my jewels, what I loaned you? You promised to return 'em to me!"

"Here," Robin said, reaching inside his shirt for his purse. Desperately, he realized he'd used all his money to buy a horse...a horse for Marian. He didn't even know where that horse was now... He didn't even care.

"I will repay you, Maggie," he promised. "But we don't have time for this now. My wife's..." His throat felt tight and constricted, making speech difficult. "My wife's gone missing."

"Kidnapped, by Bruno," Allan explained. "Where is he?"

"Not here," Maggie answered. "Bruno really do that?"

"Where is he?" Robin demanded, loudly.

Maggie gulped, never having seen Lord Locksley so angry. "Don't know," she answered. "Haven't seen him. Maybe at the fair. Fair's a good place to get new customers."

And so, back to the fair they ran. Allan soon discovered Much and Eve showing their infant son Tweeks the sights, Much wearing a look of disgust for having stepped in horse dung. "That is revolting!" he grimaced, wiping the sole of his boot in the grass.

"You gotta help Robin," Allan told him, unable to take his eyes off Eve. "Marian's in trouble."

"Trouble? Wha-wha-what do you mean...trouble?"

"Kidnapped. Ask around. See if anybody knows where to find a brute called Bruno."

Little John was also busy collecting reinforcements, when he ran into Will and Djaq at the fair.

"We'll find her, Robin," Will told his friend, pressing a reassuring hand on his forearm.

Robin could only nod, his eyes wild with despair. Eve agreed to watch over Will and Djaq's twins, so that the couple could concentrate on the search. But endless questions yielded no results. No one claimed to have seen Bruno.

Darting from booth to booth, Robin asked everyone he could find. But when his eyes lit upon something for sale in one booth, he went completely numb.

"Where did you get this?" he cried, holding a ribbon tied lock of hair in his fist. Lifting it to his face, he breathed in its scent, then clutched it to his heart.

"Where did you get this?" he shouted again.

The vendor, a pimply faced adolescent, merely shook his head, frightened by the madness in Lord Locksley's eyes.

With his free hand, Robin reached across the table, grabbing the youth by his shirt and pulling him face to face with himself. "Where did you get this?" he asked again, his tone menacing.

"Tell us!" Much insisted, drawing his sword.

"Robin!" Little John warned. "He no can talk."

"Yeah," Allan affirmed. "John's right. Crazy Vaisey cut his tongue out."

"Daddy!"

Shuddering with frustration, Robin released his hold on the frightened youth. It took all his will to adjust his features to a semi normal expression, but he managed it, before turning to face Bridget Thornton and his small daughter.

"Daddy!"

From her perch on Bridget's hip, Ellen held out her arms, and Robin quickly swooped her up. "Where's Mama?" Ellen innocently asked.

Hearing the question from his child's lips was almost too much for Robin. Sucking in his breath, he held her cheek to his, but could not answer.

"Having fun at the fair?" he managed to ask, his voice no more than a whisper.

Ellen yawned, and Robin, still clutching the lock of hair in one fist, reluctantly handed her back to Bridget. "Time for your nap," he told his daughter, kissing the top of her head. Lowering his voice, he instructed Bridget, "Do this for me. Find Nurse Mattie, and take Ellen home for her nap. If Lady Locksley returns home, or if you hear anything of her whereabouts, send word to me immediately."

"Yes, Master Robin," Bridget answered, wondering at the odd, intense look in her beloved master's eyes.

Once the servant had taken Ellen away, Robin, with eyes closed, held the ribbon tied hair to his nose again, seemingly frozen where he stood. "Robin!" Much shouted, trying to pull him out of his trance. "Marian!"

"Where?"

"No! I mean...we have to look for her! Put that...that hair down and...and...keep searching!"

"This is Marian's hair, Much," Robin told his friend, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. "I know its feel, its scent!"

Much's jaw dropped, rendering him temporarily speechless. "Wha-wha-what?" he asked.

"What?" Allan repeated, thinking Robin had gone mad. "Not bein' funny, but its probably hair from a horse's mane."

"Or tail," Will agreed.

"It's not from a horse!" Robin shouted. "It's Marian's!"

Breathing heavily, his heart aching, Robin stared wild eyed at his friends, then turned from them and took off running.

"Where are you going?" Much demanded. Receiving no answer, he stared open mouthed back and forth, from Robin's disappearing figure to the gang. "What do we do now?" he sputtered.

Little John did not hesitate. "We follow," he answered.

As if they were one body, Robin's former gang of outlaws took off running after him.


	51. Chapter 51

_No doubt about it,_ Bruno was thinking, counting the number of customers flocking around "Hortense" in the ground floor reception room of Nottingham's most disreputable bawdy house. _With all the out-of-towners, fa__irs were good for business._

Bruno eyed his newest harlot with satisfaction. When she'd refused to drink any more of Her Majesty's tonic, he'd held her down and forced it down her throat, effectively erasing the rest of her memory, will, and reason. And now, thanks to Nature and to him, she was not only beautiful and shapely, but blond, and stupid to boot! No wonder the men were lining up, promising their last farthings, just for a chance to take her upstairs and tup her.

What did it matter if she swayed on her feet, as though she were drunk? He doubted she'd be needing to stand, once she got to work. And what did it matter if she blinked vapidly, not able to tell up from down? The men weren't interested in her conversation. No. One look into those empty, blinking blue eyes of hers, not to mention all her other assets, and every gent in the place panted to have a go at her. The blond wig suited her, Bruno decided...made her look like an angel, with a body that could tempt old Lucifer himself.

Yes, indeed, the money would be coming in tonight! And the tales of the luscious Hortense would be going out, attracting even more fair goers the rest of the week! Now, all Bruno needed to do was to keep forcing the Queen's brew down Lady Locklsey's lily white throat, to make her lose her willfulness and comply with his orders. After all, with a face and a body like hers, it'd be a crime to light a fire in a man, and then not quench it, for a price.

...

"Where is he?" Much worried, panting for air in a narrow corridor of Nottingham Castle. "Where did he go?"

"I do not know!" Djaq answered, nearly as frustrated as Lord Bonchurch. "Robin is fast. He was just ahead of us, and then, he seemed to disappear."

"Not bein' funny, but does anybody else think maybe he really _can_ walk through walls?"

"I hate this!" Much cried. "I hate it! First, Marian disappears, and now Robin...?"

"Shut up and keep looking!" Will Scarlet advised.

"But which way? Where did Robin go? I hate this!"

Little John only growled, then, knowing the gang depended on him to lead in Robin's absence, pointed down a castle corridor.

"You heard Big Bear!" Much declared, glad that someone had made a decision. "Well, I mean, you saw him! We go this way!"

...

Isabella lay back, soaking luxuriously in a golden bathtub, its warm water fragrant with rose petals. Two jewel encrusted pins held up her hair, so it wouldn't get wet, and her ladies stood nervously by, ready to supply her every desire.

Well, perhaps not_ every_ desire. The handsome man she despised, yet lusted after, could not be summoned by a group of ladies. No, somehow, he would have to want her enough, to come to her himself.

There was no sound of a door opening, yet somehow, _He _appeared from out of nowhere, in their midst, his eyes hard with hatred and wild with anguish. Together, Isabella and her ladies gasped, their hearts pounding with surprise, fear, and, in Isabella's case, desire.

So, he had ferreted out the truth, or at least he suspected, that she was behind his goody goody wife's disappearance. No matter. He wouldn't hurt her, not Robin. Her very gender protected her, that, and his charming, sweet conscience. Let him threaten all he liked. He was so sexy when dangerous.

"Leave us," Isabella commanded her ladies.

After her women had filed out, Isabella stretched, cat like, in her bath, lifting her slender arms over her head in a provocatively inviting gesture.

Robin had no interest in the bait. "What have you done with Marian?" he demanded, furiously.

"You know, Robin, for all your excellent breeding, I do believe your years, living like an animal in the forest with peasants and ruffians your closest companions, has made you forget your gentle manners. But don't worry. I actually prefer it when you're not gentle with me."

"Where's my wife, you poisonous slut?"

Isabella wriggled her body suggestively under the water. "I don't, however, approve of your approach to me," she scolded. "I'd prefer to hear your honeyed words, before we resume our brief, but oh so passionate, affair. You know, it dawns on me, that, surprising as it seems after what we engaged in together, we've never seen each other naked. You're well versed in myths and legends. Who was it who rose from the waves? The Goddess of Love, wasn't it? How appropriate."

So saying, Isabella stood in her bath, revealing the exquisite white loveliness of her body, then pulled out her hairpins to shake down her hair, being sure to hold onto one, to use as a weapon.

"There!" she said, before stepping from her bath to slide her arms into the sleeves of a burgundy colored robe. "Must make quite a change to view a woman's body not marked by hideous scars."

"Your hideous scars are on your soul," Robin sneered, conquering his fears her words ignited.

First, a lock of Marian's hair, tied in a ribbon and sold at the fair. Next, the viper's admission to having seen Marian's body. Mad with fear and worry, Robin drew forth his dagger, and walked menacingly toward Isabella.

Isabella stood by her bed, knowing she looked bewitchingly beautiful with her robe open to partially reveal her perfectly proportioned body. She may not have Marian's voluptuous curves, but hers were perfect, and Robin couldn't help but be tempted. Beyond reason, she hoped.

After one quick appraisal up and down her body he just couldn't help, Robin kept his eyes locked on her face. "You will tell me where my wife is," he threatened, standing over her, "unless you want me to decorate you, the way your brother decorated Marian."

"My brother!" Isabella sneered back at him, enjoying the heat coursing through her, pooling at her loins. "Do you think Guy will return to England, now that your beloved Richard's no longer king? Why should he stay away, with his sister Queen? Who knows? Perhaps he'll return. Perhaps..." She paused for effect. "Perhaps he already has."

It was too much. Chivalry be damned. Robin lunged at her, spinning her around and holding her from behind, his knife's blade to her throat.

"Where's my wife?" he hissed.

Isabella, equally stimulated and frightened, plunged her hairpin into his thigh, making Robin release his hold on her. "Guards!" she shrieked, closing her robe around her and watching in satisfaction as Robin first glared at her, then bolted from her room, leaving a trail of blood from his wound.


	52. Chapter 52

"Robin, you're wounded!"

Turning a corner in a castle corridor, Much and the rest of Robin Hood's gang came upon their friend and former leader, gripping his thigh in a futile attempt to stop the flow of blood.

"Isabella stabbed me," Robin shot out, more concerned about his desperate need to find Marian than his loss of blood. "She must have struck an artery."

Without a word, Djaq set to work, probing his wound with her fingers. A crimson spurt of blood confirmed Robin's analysis. With quick efficiency, Djaq tore off her own sleeve and began fashioning a makeshift tourniquet and bandage.

"We've got to find Marian," Robin told his men, single minded in his urgency. "Djaq, how long before you can get me up and moving again?"

"Robin, I am sorry, but you need to stay off your feet."

"Not until I find my wife," he vowed, in a tone that would stand no argument. "John, Allan, ask around. You know more people than anybody," Robin said to Allan, pleading with his eyes. "See if anyone knows any other place Bruno might be hiding."

"Yeah," Allan agreed, nodding his head. "Couple a guards I'm tight with might know."

"We go, now," Little John urged, trodding heavily behind his smaller, faster friend.

"Robin, what do we do?" Much asked.

Robin didn't care that his command might shock Much. Nothing mattered, while Marian was still missing. He didn't even want to think about Isabella's sly implication that Gisbourne might have returned from France and be behind all this, though the very thought of it made his blood first run cold, and then boil.

"I need you and Will to go to the Cherry Pit," he told a gaping Much, "in case Bruno's shown his face again there."

"The-the WHAT?" Much cried, aghast. "But, Robin, that's a...a..."

"A whore house," Robin completed the words Much couldn't bring himself to say. "I'm sorry. But do it for Marian. Please, Much."

"Of course we'll go," Will assured Robin. "Where exactly in Nottingham is it?"

While Djaq's expert fingers bandaged his wound, Robin was struck by how good and decent his men were. Neither Will nor Much knew where to find the Cherry Pit, and they'd spent most of their lives near Nottingham. Robin guessed Will had never set foot in such a place...Much had only once, in Acre, after Robin had been misinformed that Marian had married, and Legrand had taken him off to one of the cities' notorious brothels, paying to get him drunk and laid. The memory of Much's disappointed, shocked, accusatory face could still make Robin hang his head in shame.

But none of that mattered now. The thought of Marian in danger, perhaps at the vengeful hands of Guy of Gisbourne, was driving Robin mad with worry and despair. He had to find her! Pulling her lock of hair from inside his shirt where he'd placed it over his heart, he kissed it again, pleading silently with God for her safety.

Before he could give Will directions to Gropecunt Street, Allan and Little John returned. "Not bein' funny," Allan eagerly told everyone, "but MacAlaistair swears he knows where Bruno is! The good old Cherry Pit isn't the only place he works. Seems he spends half his time at the Cock and Ass. Oi! I didn't name the place! It's just a couple of farm animals, Much, but judging from the ugly hags workin' there, they oughta call it the Cow and Pig. It's just a couplea doors down from the Cherry Pit."

Robin was already down the hall, hobbling as fast as his bandaged leg could carry him.

"We go, now," Little John said for the second time that afternoon, lumbering after Robin.

"Immediately!" Much agreed.

...

Through the fog of her drug induced state, Marian could tell things were horribly wrong. But somehow, try as she might to summon her will and energy to object, she could only whimper.

"No," she told the heavyset, balding man leering over her. _I'm not for sale. Don't touch me. I will kill you._

But the words wouldn't come. "No," was the most she could eek lethargically out.

He reminded her of a wild boar, his eyes small and dark and piglike, his breath wheezing and snorting as he looked lustfully upon her, his flesh reeking, fouling the already putrid air of the bedchamber. A boar spear would be too good for him, yet she felt, unless she could summon the will to resist, she would be the one getting poked, not he.

"You got no right to say no," the man snarled, fumbling with his belt. "I paid in advance for you. I got you for a quarter hour, before the next lucky sot gets his turn, so turn around. The sign out front shows a cock and an ass, and that's what I paid for...my *#* in your-"

Before he could finish, chaos exploded into the room. The door was flung open, and a whirlwind in brown shoved against the man, knocking him to the ground, and began pummeling him with hammering fists.

Marian stood by watching, as if from far away. A vaguely familiar man with tears in his eyes and a round, colorful shield, was holding her arm, keeping her from swaying. "It's alright, Marian," he was saying. "We're here. You're safe."

The whirlwind stood up and stared deeply into her eyes, then hobbled toward her, enfolding her in his strong arms. She knew those eyes, recognized his scent, the very essence of him. His heart pounded against her sluggish one, and she felt him remove her blond wig and brush his lips tenderly against her hair.

"Robin," she breathed, closing her eyes, resting her cheek against his heart.

"Are you alright, my love?" he asked.

She sighed, and heard him say the words she longed to hear.

"Come on," he invited, holding her protectively. "Let's go home."


	53. Chapter 53

Wasting an entire day in bed was something Robin could never understand, but today he did not mind doing so in the least. There was nowhere else he'd rather be, than lying in bed beside his wife, holding her protectively in his arms.

"Why can't we get up?" Marian asked, shaking off the refreshing effects of her nap, and the last of the drug's induced stupor.

"Because, my love," Robin answered, tapping her lightly on her nose, "your doctor and mine ordered the pair of us on temporary bedrest."

Marian sat up and looked at him, her eyes snapping. "Doctor? What doctor?"

Chuckling under his breath, Robin pulled her back against him, delighted to see the fire within her return. "Just a figure of speech," he explained, grinning. "I was referring to Matilda as yours, and Djaq as mine, though Matilda had plenty to say to me, as well."

"I'm sure she did," Marian smirked, beginning to smile at last. "What's wrong with you, anyway?"

Sitting up, Robin, pulled back the cover to reveal his bandaged thigh. He was dressed in no more than a shirt and his linen undershorts, while Marian looked stunningly beautiful in a simple, white nightdress.

"Isabella injured us both," he informed her. "You with poison, and me...let's just say she used her fangs on me."

"She bit you?" Marian cried out, indignantly, making Robin laugh.

"I suppose 'fangs' wasn't really the right thing to say. She jabbed at me, with her hairpin. Wouldn't have hurt at all, except she managed to strike an artery. But, the silver lining is, I get to spend an entire day in bed, with you."

He bent close to kiss her but could not claim his prize, for Marian playfully turned her cheek away just before his lips reached hers.

"I thought this was supposed to be bed_rest,"_ she teased.

"It is! I can kiss you so restfully, you'll doze straight back to sleep."

"I doubt that."

"A challenge?"

"You'd better not kiss me like that!" Marian cried, reaching her arms around his neck and pulling him to her. "Mmmm, that's better," she sighed, after enjoying a warm, lovely kiss.

Fingering the ends of her hair, she resigned herself and asked, "Do I look horrible?"

"Never," he said with conviction. "Trust me. You look gorgeous."

"I suppose it will be easier to care for, short," she sighed. "Besides, it will grow back. And it's certainly better than your haircut!"

His monk's tonsure had begun to grow back, but the hairs at his crown he'd shaved were still so short, they stood straight up, like bristles. Marian lazily lifted a hand and rubbed them back and forth, teasing him quietly by saying, "Hedgehog."

They kissed again, softly and sweetly, and Robin kept the passion he felt rising within him in check. After what she'd been through, he only wanted to hold her close, and shelter her from harm.

"I remember everything that happened to me, Robin," she confessed, "and I hated feeling so helpless. I don't ever want to feel that way again."

"You won't. I swear it. I let John and Allan take care of Bruno, so he'll think twice before doing Isabella's dirty work ever again."

"She has my ring, you know," Marian told him, then wished she hadn't mentioned it. The look in his eyes turned lethal.

"Let it go, Robin," she warned. "It's only a ring."

"She took your earrings. I won't let her have your ring. I'll get it back."

"No. Keep away from her! Anyway, there's no need. I have a plan of my own."

"You?"

"Yes. Does that surprise you?"

"No, it doesn't. You never learn. I mean it, Marian. Let me handle it."

"Oh, so you can be arrested again?"

"It's better than..."

"What? Tell me."

Their argument was cut short when Ellen toddled into their room, lifting her arms to be picked up, so she could join them on their bed.

"Forgive me, Master, Mistress," Nurse Mattie blushed, from their doorframe. "She got away from me."

"No harm done," Robin told her, placing his tiny daughter between him and Marian on the bed. "Her timing was perfect. Wasn't it, Boo?"

Ellen snuggled happily on Marian's lap, and her parents' argument was shelved for a time.


	54. Chapter 54

"Horsie," Ellen was saying excitedly, perched on her mother's lap.

"Yes. I see you have your horsie. Robin," Marian wondered, eyeing their daughter's soft toy horse, "it's not bad for her, is it, to chew so much on its nose?"

Robin grinned, the presence of his daughter dispelling the recent tension between himself and Marian. "Not for _her._ Now, the horse, on the other hand...! But she likes it, don't you, Boo?" he grinned.

Ellen gurgled with laughter, when her daddy pretended to chomp down on her toy.

"Mama's horsie," she said, trying to be understood.

"What about Llanrei, dear?" Marian asked.

Ellen drew down her brows, shook her head, and pointed to the window.

"I don't think she means Llanrei," Robin said slyly, lifting their daughter onto his lap instead. With a wink and a smile, he advised, "Take a look outside."

Marian didn't say anything, but rose from the bed and walked toward the window, a flicker of excitement within her. Robin hadn't bought her a horse at the fair, had he? The only one worth anything was the dappled grey who'd almost won the horse race.

When she saw Ian leading that very horse in the yard below, she gasped and broke into a smile.

"He's all yours," Robin told her.

"What's his name?" she asked, still smiling at the horse below.

"You might want to rename him. He's called Pox."

"Pox? No, I'll keep his name. Makes him sound dangerous."

She rejoined him on their bed, and Robin found a set of blocks for Ellen to play with. Unable to stop smiling, Marian kissed him, saying, "Thank you."

"That's not the best part," he told her, grinning. "I bought him for you, because he needs a skilled rider. Would have beaten my horse in that race, with you on his back."

"I thought so, too."

"Which means, I'm going to have to really work my horse hard this year, so we can beat you on Pox at next year's fair."

Marian didn't speak, letting his meaning soak in. Hope soared high, then reality returned. "But, Robin, I'm a woman. I can't enter the horse race."

"Believe me, I know what sex you are. But you can, and you will. Seems a shame, the fastest rider in the shire, not allowed to enter the race. About time we changed the rules, if you ask me. And, I have a bit of a say what goes on in my own shire. I'm an earl, you know."

"I know, you fool! And as much as I want to, we just can't. People would be angry, especially when they place their bets on you, and I win."

"But you won't. I intend to beat you."

"You couldn't beat me, and you know it. I proved it, when I won before."

"Which is why I insist upon a rematch."

Marian sucked in her breath, deciding, then jubilantly threw her arms around his neck, covering his face with kisses.

Laughing, he said, "I guess this means it's a plan."

Her eyes were misty as she told him, "I don't know how to thank you."

"You'll think of something."

He still had the power to take her breath away. She lay back in his arms, while their little girl stacked blocks at the foot of their bed.

"Robin," Marian said, turning serious, "we need to talk."

"I know."

"I don't want you trying to get my ring from Isabella. I don't you anywhere near her."

"I won't be alone. Much will be with me."

"Much?"

"Alright then...John."

"John? Sneaking into the castle, in the dead of night?"

"He's done it before."

"How nobody heard his heavy footsteps is beyond me."

"Alright then...Allan."

Marian merely stared back at him.

"Will."

"Why not Djaq? Because she's a woman?"

"Yes. Believe it or not, my love, I did all I could to shield Djaq from danger, when we lived in the forest."

"There is another member of your gang, you know, who might like very much to accompany you on your mission."

While she got up and rummaged through a drawer, Robin objected, "I'm sorry, Marian. It's out of the question."

She returned to face him, wearing his outlaw tag around her neck. And while Robin felt his tag had never looked so good, he shook his head, grimly.

"I promised your father I'd protect you," he said, making her catch her breath again. "I haven't done a very good job, so far. I mean to do better, Marian."

"Let me make a proposal," she told him, climbing on her knees on the bed. "Either, we perform your plan together, or you let me perform mine, alone."

"And what's your plan?" he asked, suspiciously.

"Promise me you won't shout."

"I don't shout at you." There was a brief pause. "Do I shout?" he asked, almost bewilderedly.

She nodded her head.

Robin reached for her, and drew her close against him. "I'm sorry, Wren. I don't want to. I don't want to be that sort of husband."

"Robin, you are a practically perfect husband."

"Practically?" he asked, his eyes still sad, above his grin.

"Well, there's still time to improve. But, yes." She kissed his cheek. "You're wonderful to me. And you're a wonderful father."

He was truly moved, and his kiss told her just how much her words meant to him.

"Now," she said, returning to the matter at hand. "Listen to my plan, and make your choice. The two of us, together, with you in charge, or me alone. I think you'll find my plan much more practical, and far safer."

"Safer's good. Alright, my love. Tell me. Just what do you propose?"


	55. Chapter 55

"Robin! You promised me you wouldn't shout!"

"That was before I heard your so called plan!"

Regaining control of his emotions, Robin took a deep breath, then lifted Ellen from the foot of the bed, kissed her on top of her head, and handed her to Marian. "Please take her to Mattie, so we can discuss this further."

"Why? Because I'm a woman?"

"Because I'm not wearing trousers!"

His truthful, surprising answer silenced Marian's objections. "Come along, Ellie," she said calmly. "Let's find Nurse Mattie."

As soon as they had gone, Robin threw back his head and groaned. Unable to sit in bed any longer, he rose and began to hobblingly pace about the room, stopping only when his leg hurt him.

When Marian returned, she found him standing against the far wall, legs apart, arms folded across his chest, chin lifted defiantly. Mentally preparing herself for battle, Marian still couldn't banish the thought that no other man in the world could look so handsome, desirable, and noble, dressed in only a loose linen shirt and undershorts.

His shouting didn't bother her as much as she'd led him to believe. It wasn't cruel or threatening, only passionate. All the same, she didn't want him to shout now, but to listen.

"You're supposed to stay in bed," she told him.

"So are you."

"Well, then..." First closing the door behind her, she returned to their bed, climbing across it to sit where she slept, for he, as a knight sworn to protect his lady, slept closest to the door.

Robin followed her lead, but had to climb past her to get to his side of the bed. Doing so, he bumped his injured leg against one of Ellen's blocks, and winced in pain.

Marian winced as well, feeling his pain almost as sharply as he felt it himself. "Are you alright?" she asked, her lovely voice filled with concern.

Instead of answering, he stared deeply into her eyes, so deeply it felt he really could see all the way into her soul, as he'd told her she could see into his. Pain lurked in those amazing eyes of his, pain far greater than that in his leg.

She knew he was hurt by the distance between them, because he loved her so much.

"Robin," Marian gasped, as he brushed the sheered ends of her hair off her cheek. Her eyes signalled love back to him, lighting up his entire face with joy, and then, desire. His thumb began stroking her cheek, and she let herself be lulled by its loving caress for a moment or two.

She loved his hands so very much, finding them far more beautiful than her own, with his long, tapering fingers, his fingertips' firm, sensitive pads, and the hard callouses on his palms. There was strength in his hands, strength combined gentleness, and power, almost magic, in the way their touch could move her.

Neither were aware how it happened, but he was lying over her, kissing her as though they'd been parted for months instead of minutes. Between kisses, and deep, ragged breaths, he implored her, "I can't let you throw yourself in harm's way! He's mad, Marian! He's pure evil!"

"Later," she begged him, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and pulling his lips to hers again and again and again.

It was later, indeed, when they felt ready to speak again. Ellen's blocks lay strewn on the floor, having been tossed off the bed, and the happy, contented couple lay entwined together, enjoying soft, sweet, afterglow kisses.

Neither wanted to break the mood, but as the moments flew by, the unspoken discussion began to weigh upon them.

Marian was the first to speak.

"How's your leg?" she asked, softly.

"It feels great. Everything feels great. How are you?"

"Worried, that you don't trust me."

"I trust you, Marian, I swear it. I think you underestimate the king. He's no better than those men who tried to buy you, in that bawdy house. In fact, he's worse. You have no idea what he'll demand from you, if you so much as smile at him."

"We've already had this discussion, remember, about his haircut. I flattered him, and he freed his barber. I don't notice the king demanding anything from me, Robin. Why can't I simply dress nicely, go to him, and tell him his wife stole my engagement ring?"

"Because it's playing with fire. Do you remember the time he dressed you up and dropped an eel down your bodice, and then invited men to try to fish it out?"

"Yes, and I remember what he did to the man who dared try."

"He burned out his eyes!"

"Yes! I'm not saying he's not mad."

"He is!"

"I'm well aware of the danger, Robin. But I won't be alluring, I'll be-"

"You can't help not be-"

"I'll be sad, and appealing. I'll appeal to his sense of-"

"Chivalry? He has none, Marian! He lives to be amused, to slake his thirsts and desires. He grows bored instantly, and his practices grow increasingly more evil and perverse, just to keep himself entertained. The less contact you have with King John, the better."

"Fine. We'll do it your way."

"My way?"

"Yes. We'll sneak into Isabella's chambers tonight, and steal back my ring. Together."

She was wearing nothing at all except the outlaw tag, which still hung around her neck. Holding the tag out toward her husband, she reminded him, "I am a member of your gang, after all."

"I don't have a gang anymore, Marian," he told her wearily, wanting to add her own frequent line, "Grow up."

"Tell that to Much. Or to anyone in England, for that matter. You're famous, Robin Hood. Your band will never die. Now," she said, finding her nightdress and pulling it over her head, "what's your plan for tonight? When do we leave Locksley? You should be happy! For once, I'm ready to obey your orders!"


	56. Chapter 56

One thing was certain, in Robin's mind. Marian wasn't going anywhere tonight.

"Thrilling as it sounds, sneaking around in the dark with you, it's not happening tonight," he told her, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back on the pillows. "Bedrest," he reminded her, grinning smugly to emphasize winning his point.

"Speak for yourself," she shot back.

"Marian!"

"What? I'm better. And you just proved yourself quite healthy. Why shouldn't we sneak into Nottingham together, tonight?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"I stayed where I was told to, in bed. I obeyed instructions, something you need to learn how to do."

"How dare you?"

"I mean it, Marian. You need to rest, for our baby's sake, as well as for your own."

Unwittingly, he'd said the words Marian had been waiting to hear. She'd led him straight to them, and now, she could make her point.

"Robin," she began earnestly, "do you really think I would put our baby at risk by scaling a castle wall and sneaking into Isabella's rooms, especially after just having been kidnapped, drugged, and nearly...nearly raped? I love my ring, Robin, but I love our child more. A ring isn't the King's life, the late King's life," she corrected herself, "nor is it the people of our village facing starvation. It's a ring, Robin, a precious symbol, but not a life. And as much as I would like to help you in all your future worthy adventures, I was only trying to point out how foolish this one would be, should you try to attempt it."

Robin felt a rush of emotion at her words. "I don't know what to say. You amaze me, Marian."

"You were planning to try to sneak into Isabella's chambers again tonight, weren't you, Robin?"

"I don't want her to have your ring. She stole it from you once before."

"And we got it back, didn't we? We will again, Handsome, but not tonight, and not by sneaking into the dragon's lair."

She was right, of course, he realized. Right, as well as being beautiful, amazing, incredible, and perfect for him.

"Why do we keep repeating the same arguments over and over again?" he asked her. "In fact, why do we argue at all? You'd think, after all the wasted years apart, we'd savor every moment together."

"We savor our arguments, too," Marian reminded him, smiling.

"But not as much as the making up?"

"Not even close."

Their tenderly passionate kiss echoed their spoken sentiments, and it seemed this particular argument might finally be resolved.

"Now," Robin said softly, lying face to face with Marian with his arms wrapped around her, "maybe we can both rest easy tonight."

Marian was beginning to grow drowsy again. "When do you think we should tell Ellie about the baby?" she asked.

"Anytime," he answered happily. "I don't know how much she'll understand. Remember when we were children, and Much thought all expectant mothers ate their babies?"

She didn't recall that. "Because they're in their bellies? Much!" Marian sighed.

The sound of hoofbeats in the yard drew Robin out of bed and to the window, and then into a pair of trousers and boots.

"Robin?" Marian asked, sitting up. "I thought you agreed to stay in bed today."

"That was before I saw the king's courier arriving with a message," he told her. "You stay put, Wren. I'll see what he wants and come right back."

As soon as he'd hobbled downstairs to greet the messenger, Marian rose from the bed and stood at the door, straining her ears to listen. All traces of tiredness were gone, banished by what could only be, considering the message's sender, bad news.

"You may tell His Majesty from me," she could hear Robin saying, unpleasantly, "that we respectfully decline his invitation. My wife and I have been placed on bedrest, just for today, and so, we are not at liberty to accept."

"The King is not requesting your company, my lord earl. Only your lady wife's."

"Tell the king-" Robin began.

"Tell His Majesty it is impossible, as I am honored, but extremely ill," Marian lied, appearing covered in a robe at the top of the steps. "Not to mention, contagious," she added, sending the messenger scurrying out their manor's door, tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.

"Please, Robin, not a word," she said, as he stood staring up at her.


	57. Chapter 57

Staring up at Marian from the bottom of their home's staircase, Robin renewed his resolve to keep his incredible wife as far from the lecherous eyes of King John as possible. He had to admit, her own solution had been clever. But would it be enough?

Before he had a chance to hobble back upstairs to rejoin her, Robin stopped, realizing he could hear the sound of muffled crying in their house. "Shh," he told Marian, listening. "I hear crying."

Marian tried to listen as well, but couldn't hear it. "Is it Ellie?" she asked, hurrying down the steps.

Robin shook his head. "Come on," he invited, somberly. "It's coming from the servants' quarters."

Orders of bedrest were forgotten, as the lord and lady of the manor searched for the source of unhappiness under their roof, each of them determined to do all in their power to make things right again.

"It's Bridget," Robin realized, concerned that Thornton's perky blond daughter should be sobbing so wretchedly.

Knocking softly on the young woman's door, he asked, "Bridget? Are you alright? It's me, Robin, and Lady Locksley. May we come in?"

The crying stopped as abruptly as it had begun, and within moments, the door was pulled open to admit them.

Poor Bridget looked every bit as wretched as she'd sounded, her eyes red and swollen, her nose dripping, her cheeks wet with tears. "Forgive me, Master, Mistress," she gulped. "I'll get back to work now."

"No need," Robin told her, kind, and gentle yet firm at the same time. "We don't mean to embarrass you, Bridget, but we heard you crying, and we're here to help, if you need us."

"Thank you, but it's nothing," Bridget insisted. "Just...just woman's foolishness. No more."

Marian, giving her husband's forearm a gentle squeeze, whispered to him, "Let me talk to her, Robin."

Robin saw the wisdom in his wife's idea. Gratefully, he nodded, then pressed his lips against her forehead and politely excused himself.

When the two young women were alone, Marian gently began by saying, "I don't mean to intrude, but I'm here to listen, and help you, Bridget. Will you tell me what's wrong?"

Eased by the kindness in her mistress's eyes, Bridget decided to open up and confess what was troubling her heart. "Oh, Mistress," she sobbed, "I'm a fool to carry on so! It's over, and you and Master Robin have made everything well again! It's just...I can't forget, and when I see you two so happy together, with your sweet child, knowing I can never have a husband or a bairn of my own...!"

"What do you mean, you can't have a husband?" Marian asked. "You have our permission to marry, Bridget, whenever you choose. It's not your father standing in your way, is it?"

"No, milady."

"Then, what? And what is it you can't forget? Please, tell me."

The blond young woman sank onto the side of her bed, wringing her hands. It wasn't like cheerful Bridget, whom Marian had known since childhood. She'd always been spunky and confident, ready to put Much in his place whenever he got above himself. But she seemed a different person now. Marian's heart went out to her, and she placed her hand on the girl's shoulder, no longer mistress and servant, but woman to woman.

Bridget uttered a deep, anguished sigh. "I can never marry, milady. Not now. Not after what he did to me. It's the same for all of us."

"Who?" Marian asked, feeling a cold knot form in the pit of her stomach when she guessed the answer. "Do you mean, Sir Guy?" _What_ _had Guy done?_ Marian had already guessed the answer, but was having trouble admitting it to herself.

Bridget couldn't look her mistress in the eye, she was so ashamed. Yet it helped to be able to talk. "He called it 'rubbing his feet,' but it wasn't. There was times, after Master Robin came back from the Holy Land, but was outlawed, and Sir Guy was so angry, he'd force one of us to his room, but he didn't want us. He wanted to hurt Robin, so he'd...he'd hurt us instead."

"It wasn't your fault," Marian assured her, shuddering at the cruelty of the man who'd almost been her husband. "I am so sorry. It's over, at least. And you can marry, Bridget. Any man would be lucky to marry you."

"No, milady. I'm tainted."

"No, you're not. You were not to blame. I was...I was almost in a similar situation myself, only yesterday, and I would have been, if Robin hadn't found me. But if he'd arrived any later, he'd think no less of me as his wife, I assure you. Any man worthy of you, Bridget Thornton, will think no less of you, for crimes committed against your will."

"Your ladyship is too kind."

"I'm only saying what's true. I'm sorry, Bridget, for what you suffered. If I'd known, I might have been able to stop it."

"He made us swear never to tell anyone, milady, most of all, Your Ladyship. Thank you for listening to me now. I'm scared sometimes, that he might come back."

"He won't. He has far too many enemies. You're perfectly safe."

Their intimate conversation was cut short by the sound of hoofbeats outside, thundering toward the manor. A trumpet blared, followed by a herald announcing, "Make way! Make way for His Most Gracious Majesty, King John!"

"The king!" Bridget cried, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

He wasn't supposed to be here, Marian was thinking. Hadn't his messenger given him the news, of her pretended illness?

Marian pulled her robe more tightly around her body, preparing herself to face the king, if she must. She could handle him, she told herself.

One thing was certain, she resolved. She would never allow herself to be a helpless pawn to satisfy his lust or his vengeance, the way Bridget and others had been to Guy.


	58. Chapter 58

Confused and none too pleased about the king's unexpected visit, Marian debated whether she should rush upstairs to dress herself in a presentable manner, or simply appear before His Majesty in her nightclothes. Her heart warned her to do the former, but her head suggested her story of illness would ring more true if she remained in a state of undress. And because the king had already dismounted, had entered her home and was calling for her, her head won.

By the time she appeared from the servants' quarters, Robin, with Ellen in his arms, was already standing over the king, eyeing him distrustfully.

King John had wasted no time making himself at home. He sat sprawled upon a chair, one leg hanging over an armrest, gulping down wine from a chalice embossed with the Huntington crest.

"Is that the best you could do, Locksley?" he sneered, in a belittling tone.

"I regret the wine displeases Your Majesty," Robin answered, coldly. "I'll have my servants bring a different vintage from my cellar."

"More wine, of course!" King John agreed. "But I was referring to your brat. A scrawny chit of a girl, and speckled, to boot! Believe me, I won't be in any hurry for her to grow up! I prefer my bedmates pleasing to my eyes, such as the lovely Miriam. Where is she, by the way?"

Before Robin could explode with angry objections, Marian stepped into view. First shooting Robin a quick look warning him to be quiet, she sank into a graceful curtsey before the king. She was every bit as disgusted by the king's comments as her husband, but she kept her head, knowing the quickest way to end this unwelcome visit was to avoid angry words.

"King John," she murmured, in her lovely voice. "It is an honor to welcome you to Locksley. However, I must warn Your Majesty, it is unsafe for you to be here. I am ill, with fever and contagion. Please, Your Majesty, for the good of your people, leave our home, and return to the castle."

"What in the name of my harpy mother happened to your hair?" the king cried out, staring at her in disgust.

Her hair! In her concern for Bridget, Marian had forgotten her hair had been hacked off at chin level. She had been trying to be brave and not let it bother her, but now, with the king glaring at her as though she were a leper, she blessed the knife that had chopped it off.

"I cut it," she lied. "I was feverish, and didn't know what I was about. Please, Sire, go, before you catch what I have."

"Oh, Miriam," the king cried, "I weep for the loss of one of your many beauties! Thankfully, you are loaded with others! Stacked with them, one might even say!"

Swinging his legs onto the floor, he rose from his seat and began to saunter toward Marian, who still knelt in a curtsey. Before he could reach her, however, Robin strode into his path, blocking the king from reaching his wife.

"You heard my wife," he said, handing Ellen off to Marian. "Keep away from her, if you know what's good for you."

"That sounds dangerously like a threat, Locksley," the king barked. "Surely you're not threatening your monarch?"

"Just looking out for your health," Robin boasted, his answer an obvious double edged sword.

"Do you know what I hate most about you, Locksley? Your smug arrogance. You've always thought of yourself as better than anybody else. I only want to cure your luscious wife."

"Bed rest will cure her. In fact, it's already been prescribed. Go to bed, Marian."

"Yes!" the king cried, delightedly. "My thoughts exactly! Shall we go to bed together, my dear?"

"I would infect Your Majesty," Marian insisted. "I am ill."

"And I am here to cure you!" King John proclaimed. "Step aside, Locksley, ere I have you removed forcefully. I only want to lay my royal hands upon the heavenly creature, and she will be cured!"

"You're not laying a single finger on my wife, King John," Robin snarled.

"Temper, temper!" the king scolded. "My, my, Locksley! What an unpleasant little beast you're being! I only wish my sister Joan were alive, to see the wolfish glare on your face. Not so pretty now, are you? Did I ever tell you, Locksley, that I secretly witnessed your lovely little moonlit tete e tete with my sister, the night before she set sail to marry King William of Sicily? Lovely, romantic setting, in the castle garden! Full moon, and my sister, rivalling the flowers themselves for loveliness, gripping Locksley here by his arms, begging him to take her maidenhead, so she could have just one night in his arms to remember him by, before being parted forever! Did you know about that tender little scene, Miriam, dear?"

Marian knew little of it, but it did not come as a surprise. She'd met Princess Johanna, and saw the way her emerald green eyes had sparked whenever resting upon Robin, with a flame inside them akin to the elusive blue flame within her lost emerald earrings.

"My husband is blessed with almost too much appeal," she calmly admitted. "Women of all rank and stations prove susceptible to his charms. Even Your Majesty's wife," she couldn't help adding, taking a stab at Isabella.

Instantly, she regretted having said it. The king, knowing it to be true, turned jealous eyes, glittering with hatred, on Robin.

"Of course, I have better taste than to look twice at _your _wife," Robin quipped, with that smug, self satisfied air the king detested.

"No wonder you bought that dappled horse," the king snorted. "Spotted, just like your brat."

"She's not spotted," Marian argued, rising to her feet and holding Ellen close. "She has freckles, and they're lovely."

"I'll take the horse off your hands, Locksley," the king whined. "You may give it to me, as a gift."

"I bought him as a gift for my wife," Robin snarled.

"Buy her something else," the king commanded. "A hood, for instance, to cover up her hair. You should be well acquainted where to find one, Hoodie."

"The horse belongs to Marian," Robin insisted, through clenched teeth.

"Not anymore it doesn't! It's mine! All mine! I can't wait to show everyone what a magnificent image their king makes, seated upon its back! Why, an artist should sculpt me! What's this, Locksley?" he suddenly asked, his short spanned attention focusing upon several heavy volumes on a table.

Robin hoped the king would forget the horse when hearing his answer. "Those books contain the laws of England, as set down by your late father, King Henry," Robin explained.

The king grimaced, as if he'd bitten into a bad oyster. "Boring!" he sang out. "What are they doing in your house?"

"I've been studying them," Robin said forthrightly, "ever since you were crowned."

"Why?"

"I want to know exactly what the law states. I want to make certain justice prevails in my country."

"Your country? Your country? It's my country! I'm the king! I make the laws, not my dead daddy! I can do anything I like, and you can't stop me, Lawyer Locksley! Tell me, Miriam, my sweet, when does your husband find time to read through such boring volumes?"

"He sometimes gets up during the night, when he's had a dream, or can't sleep," Marian explained. "I've often had to coax him back to bed."

King John burst into mocking laughter. "I won't be leaving your bed to curl up with a book, you may be sure of that, my dear!" he chortled. "Oh, no! Locksley, you're an even greater fool than I imagined!"

"No husband is no fool," Marian argued, making Robin's eyes shine with pride. "He's familiarizing himself with every nuance of the law, to help the people. He'd much rather be in bed, believe me!"

"Of course he would, with you there, my fiery beauty! Tell me, is it your fever that brings out such fire in you, or desire for me?"

"It is fever, I assure Your Majesty. Nothing but fever."

"Then you must let me lay my hands on you, and cure you! Step aside, Locksley, you law clerk."

Robin responded by taking one step closer to the king, further blocking him from Marian. The king, infuriated, snapped his fingers, and instantly, five guards charged forward and, after a quick struggle, hauled Robin aside.

"Outnumbered, Locklsey! I wondered how many men it would take to outnumber you, without your pathetic little outlaw band at your side. Now I know!" Turning a leering grin on Marian, he continued. "And now, my poor, weak, sickly, beguiling pet, I will place my hands upon you, and perform a miracle! I, your king, will cure you!"

Before Marian could think where she should put Ellen, the king reached for her, placing a grasping hand on each of her breasts and squeezing. Holding Ellen on her hip, Marian reacted with a fight move Robin had taught her years ago to defend herself from harm. Flinging up her knee with all her force behind it, she jabbed the king where it would hurt him most.

King John roared aloud with pain, releasing his grip on Marian. "Arrest them both!" he screamed. "Lock them in my dankest dungeon, and throw the keys into the moat! How dare they harm the king's person?"


	59. Chapter 59

Even from the depths of her dungeon cell, Marian heard the pleasant sound of church bells ringing, calling the faithful to evening prayer. "Vespers," she sighed sadly. "Who will tuck Ellie into bed tonight?"

Locked in a cell just across from his wife's, Robin felt a lump rise in his throat from the sorrow in Marian's voice, as well as the thought of their daughter missing them. The king seemed to take perverse pleasure that the two of them could see, but not touch one another, yet both of them were more than grateful that they were close enough to communicate.

Just as Robin was steeling himself to be strong for Marian, her own strength triumphed over her despair. "We'll get out of this," she announced, in the determined manner Robin loved to hear. "Do you have a plan?"

She couldn't help but smile back when she saw his handsome face light up in a grin.

"As a matter of fact," he answered, "I do."

"Well, are you going to tell me what it is?"

"What? And spoil the surprise?"

"Robin! This is no time to joke!"

"I know. I just wanted to see you look at me in anger."

She couldn't stifle an angry groan, yet felt better because of his cockiness. He wasn't worried, and he had a plan. Wounded leg or not, they would get out. But then what?

"I hope your plan includes clearing our names," she told him.

"I think I'll let you handle that part. You know, sweet talk the king again, into letting us-"

"How dare you?"

"Marian! I'm sorry. I did not mean that."

"I didn't sweet talk him, Robin_._ If you recall, I kneed him, when he put his filthy hands on me."

"I know you did. You were wonderful, if not so wise."

"What would you have had me do?"

"Exactly what you did. I should have...I should have stopped him, before he had the chance to touch you."

"And be locked in here without me? Who would have been there, to stop him after that? I'd still have to knee him."

Her voice had turned soft, a warm soothing caress reaching him through the bars of their cells.

"I love you," he told her, his heart flipping over.

"I love you, too. Now, what's your plan?"

The sound of the door to the dungeons creaking open, accompanied by footsteps, warned them to expect company. Robin folded his arms across his chest, half expecting to see Sheriff Vaisey come traipsing down the steps to taunt him, with Gisbourne in tow.

"I knew I'd find you here!" the welcome voice of Much proclaimed. "I knew it!"

Robin relaxed, thrilled by the sight of his best friend.

"There! I've paid you. Go," Much ordered the guard.

When the guard departed, Much grinned proudly at Robin. "Bribery! Eve gave me the idea! We should have tried it more often, you know, when we were outlaws. Would have saved us a lot of trouble."

"With the bounty on my head reaching five hundred pounds?" Robin asked. "That's a lot of bribery, Much."

"Oh. Yes. I'd forgotten. Well, this is terrible! You two, in jail again! I must say, though, I'm not surprised. What did you do, Robin?"

"Have you come to chat," Marian asked impatiently, "or are you here to help us?"

"Oh, hello, Marian. What happened to your hair?"

For the second time in as many minutes, Marian groaned aloud, balling her fists into her thighs.

"Never mind, Much," Robin told him, cheerfully. "You, my friend, are an answer to prayer!"

"Me? Well, I must say, I like hearing that! Were you really praying for me?"

"On my knees. I need you to get us out."

Marian opened her mouth in indignant surprise. No wonder he'd stalled, not telling her his plan!

"Your plan depends on Much?" she asked, not believing her ears. "Much?"

"Yes, Marian?"

"I wasn't talking to you!"

"Sorry!"

Robin held up both hands, in a gesture meant to calm her. "Much can do it, Marian! Trust me!"

"Hmph!" Much snorted, realizing he'd been insulted. "There's gratitude for you! If it weren't for me, Missy, as Vaisey liked to call you, we'd all be calling you Lady Gisbourne!"

Marian answered by throwing him one of her looks, causing Much to wilt visibly before her eyes.

"Listen," Robin said, realizing they were wasting time. "Here's what I need you to do, Much. First, find the Queen Mother-"

"Queen Eleanor? Impossible, Robin, unless you want me to go to Aquitaine. Little John said she left yesterday."

"Now what?" Marian asked.

"A set back," Robin said grimly. "We can still get out of here."

"How?" Marian was beginning to panic. "The king threw the keys in the moat!"

"Shh! It's alright. Trust me, my love. I've been in tighter spots before, remember?"

"Almost daily," Much attested.

"You see! Much is calm! That should tell you something!"

Marian looked back and forth between Robin and Much, cursing herself for her weakness. "Alright," she said, steady again. "What else have you thought up, Handsome?"

Robin loved it when she called him that. Grinning broadly, he started to continue, but was interrupted by Much.

"No keys?" Much cried, panicking himself now. "Robin! Wha-wha-wha...What was the king planning? To lock you two up, until you die?"

"Until we starve to death. One of His Majesty's favorite games."

"But-but- but...! There's food in your cells!"

"A gift from the Queen," Marian explained, her voice echoing the snideness in Robin's recent tone.

"Well! That was nice of her!" Much cried. "And surprising! I mean, I know she _likes_ you, Robin, if you know what I mean, but she doesn't _like_ you! Or you, Marian! I mean, I'd sooner think she'd poison you, than feed you!"

"I think that was her plan, Much," Robin said, as patiently as he could.

Much's mouth gaped open. "Oh! That is revolting!"

"May we please get back to the plan?" Marian demanded.

"Are you ready, Much?" Robin asked. "Alright, here's what I need you to do. I need Will, Allan, Djaq, and John."

Much's eyes lit up. "Just like old times!"

"That's right. Now, Marian, my love, we are getting out of here. And, you'll have your emerald earrings back, as well!"

"My earrings? But, Robin, Isabella threw them in the moat!"

His only answer was to grin at her, a twinkle in his eye, while he waited for her to figure out his plan.


	60. Chapter 60

"Are you going to tell me your plan?" Marian demanded, not enjoying Robin wanting her to play guessing games.

"Alright," he snickered, in a tone meant to soothe her, but instead firing her indignation further. "Since you can't seem to figure it out, even with my clues."

"Robin!"

"Yes, my love?"

"Grow up! Is this all just a big joke to you?"

Instantly, he turned serious. "No, it's not. But I don't see any sense in not looking for the fun, instead of brooding, as gloomy as Gisbourne."

"Just tell us your plan," Marian snapped back at him.

"Alright," he agreed, all traces of impudence gone. "Much, I need you to find Will. Tell him to figure out a way to drain the moat."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. Will can do it. Trust me, he's a genius."

"That's your plan?" Marian asked, indignantly. "No wonder you didn't want to tell me! Think, Robin. Even if Will somehow manages to do it, he'll be stopped. The king won't allow it. He'll know we're after the keys, and Will will probably find himself locked up here with us. Or is that part of your plan, as well?"

"No, it's not," Robin told her, in his smug, infuriating tone implying she was a child. "The king won't stop him. He'll be in bed, suffering from a fatal illness."

"Illness?" Much cried, confused. "The king is sick?"

"Deathly," Robin grinned. "Unfortunately, he caught what my lovely wife has."

"WHAT?" Much's head was spinning. "Marian! I didn't know you were sick. I mean, you look pretty good, except for your hair and everything. I wondered why you were in your nightclothes!"

"I'm not sick," Marian said, through clenched teeth. Why did Robin have to be so infuriating? Why did Much have to be so stupid? She felt she was living through some sort of lousy dream.

"But the king will believe you are, when Djaq diagnoses him," Robin told her, with a wink.

"Ahh!" Much cried, getting it. "The old fake illness trick! I knew it! So, that takes care of Will and Djaq. What do Allan and Little John do, Robin?"

Robin's grin widened. "Each will do what he does best!" he answered jauntily. "Almost everyone will be at the horse fair, and John will keep them there, by challenging all comers to a wrestling match. Just a little ploy I picked up from our illustrious Queen and that snake of a chancellor."

"Ahh! Like when he challenged you, with staffs, allowing Marian to be kidnapped?"

"That's right!"

"I knew it! And Allan?" Much asked, smiling eagerly.

"Allan will stay here, just outside the castle. Any stragglers who haven't made it to the fair, and are curious to know why the moat's being drained, will be treated to whatever clever explanation Allan chooses to spin."

"And a free tankard, at the Trip?" Much added.

"Very good, Much!" Robin approved. "I'm impressed!"

"Your plan sounds very complicated," Marian scowled at him. "Wouldn't it be simpler to have John bend the cell bars, or have Djaq burn the metal away?"

"It would," Robin mused. "But where would be the fun in that?"

"The fun," she told him, "would be in making it out of here alive! The fun would be in not depending on so many variables!"

"The fun, my love," he told her, "will be in me listening to you admit I was right, when we're safely home, alone together."

"In your dreams!"

"Marian!"

"What?"

He didn't say anything, only stared at her appealingly through the bars of his cage. In spite of her annoyance, she felt herself melting. With one final infuriating "Umph!" she relaxed, and said, "Alright. We'll try it your way."

"Much?" Robin invited. "You remember what to do?"

"Yes! I mean, I think! Umm..."

"Find Will," Robin prompted.

"Will! That's right! I knew it!"

"Will will drain the moat. And Djaq?"

"Djaq will call upon the king, and convince him he's dying."

"Good! John...?"

"John will distract the crowd, by wrestling. It might help if he takes off his shirt."

"I don't think that will be necessary," Robin grinned. "The Queen Mother's gone back to Aquitaine, remember?"

"Oh, yes! So she has! Too bad, really. Alright, shirt on, then. Who's left?"

"Allan," Robin reminded him.

"Oh, that's right! Allan will stand around outside, near the moat, and spin yarns, as he likes to say."

"Good, Much! Alright, my friend! You have your work cut out for you! Godspeed."

"Goodbye, Robin! Goodbye, Marian! I hope you feel better soon! Don't eat any of that food! It's bound to be poisoned, you know! Say, I have an idea...when you're both out, and free again, why don't you come over to Bonchurch, and I can cook us up a-"

"Much!"

"What?"

"The mission...?" Robin reminded him.

"Mission? What mission? Oh! yes! I was forgetting! Yes! I'm on it! Goodbye!"

After he'd finally gone, leaving Robin and Marian alone, Robin knew he needed to make amends with his justifiably angry wife.

"I'm sorry, Marian," he told her. "I don't know why I act like that."

"You're showing off, for Much," she suggested.

"Not for Much."

"For me? Well, don't. I like you better when you're sincere."

"You know I'm sincere, about you. I just like to tease. I like to see the sparks light up in your eyes. I feel so happy, and confident, when I'm with you."

"But how does it make me feel, Robin? Have you ever stopped to consider that?"

"How _does_ it make you feel?"

"Insulted. Belittled."

"Belittled?"

"Yes. As if you think me a child."

"I don't! I respect you, Marian."

"Do you?"

"I swear it. I love you. You're wonderful. I...I admire you. I am so sorry."

She sighed, unconvinced. "I'm hungry," she suddenly mentioned. "I'm supposed to be eating for two, you know."

"Don't look at the food," he warned her.

Bells tolled the hour. "It's getting late," he realized. "Try to get some rest. Nothing will happen, until it's light tomorrow." He paused, then confessed to her, "I wish I could bend these bars, and hold you in my arms, Marian. I love you. I'll get you out of here, I swear it."

"Goodnight, Robin," she sighed, not completely forgiving him his impudence yet. "I wonder who's putting Ellie to bed?" she asked sadly, for the second time that night.

"She has an entire household in love with her," Robin told her. "She'll be fine. And, what's more, we'll be reunited with her, tomorrow."

"I hope you're right," Marian sighed, trying to get comfortable. "So much for bed rest," she added. "There's not even a bed in this cell."

"Here." In a flash, Robin removed his cloak and tossed it to her. It landed just outside her cell door. "That will keep you warm tonight," he said, wishing he could do more.

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "But you need it."

"No, I don't. Take it, my love. It's the least I can do."

"You really are a good, kind man," Marian told him, forgiving him everything. "I'm glad, and proud, to be your wife, Robin of Locksley."

His face lit up in a smile. "That is all I need, to keep me warm through the night," he told her, gazing at her adoringly.

...

Robin and Marian awoke the next morning, when a foul odor seeped into their cells.

It wasn't only odor seeping in, but liquid, foul and sludge green, oozing through the floor of the dungeon.

"What's happening?" Marian asked, jumping to her feet.

Robin's eyes grew wide. _The_ _moat_, he was thinking. He'd ordered Will to drain the moat, but he hadn't expected it would back up into their cells.

"We've got to get out of here," he told his wife, cursing himself for putting his beloved in such great peril.


	61. Chapter 61

"Well, well, well," Isabella of Gisbourne gloated, from the stone steps leading down to Nottingham Castle's dungeon. "Who would have guessed you'd find yourself in such a similar situation twice in your life, Robin, my handsome hero?"

Holding her nose to block out the stench, Isabella clearly relished the sight of Robin, up to his chest, and Marian, up to her chin, in murky wet sludge, trying to keep their footing in their cells.

"However could this have happened?" the queen asked, sounding innocent. "It wouldn't have anything to do with your handsome peasant boy draining the moat now, would it?"

"You've had your fun, Isabella," Robin sneered. "Go back to your husband. Word's reached us, even here, that he's deathly ill."

He was growing mad with worry, watching the sludge climb higher and higher over Marian's neck.

"Oh, Robin," Isabella sighed. "Why should I watch him, thinking he's about to die, when I have a front row seat, watching you two lovebirds struggle through your last gasping breaths? Unless, of course, you manage to think of a way out, which I find highly unlikely. Ahh! If it didn't stink so badly, I wouldn't mind being locked in your cell with you! It's so reminiscent of that time we found ourselves treading water, in this very dungeon! Do you recall? It was so cold, and the water so clear! We just had to cling together, lest we freeze!"

Neither Robin nor Marian took her bait, for both were occupying their minds on survival. Undeterred, Isabella continued speaking, aiming at Marian with her poisonous words.

"Even with the water rising around us, you couldn't resist the temptation of my warm, welcoming flesh, could you, Robin? 'Take off your dress,' you told me. Remember?"

"I said it so I could make a rope. Remember?" he mimicked cruelly, hating her and himself, for ever having been involved with her, and hurting his beloved wife. His kind, brave, lovely, generous wife, whom he desperately needed to save.

"Funny, I don't remember any rope," Isabella lied.

"I tied it to my arrow, and shot it through a ring, so we could climb out," Robin reminded her, his eyes darting about, searching for a way out now, while his mind raced, trying to think up a plan to rescue Marian.

"Arrow?" Isabella repeated, vacantly. "I don't remember any arrow! I do recall something, hard and swollen, insistently poking me between my thighs. Was that the arrow you're referring to?"

"Shut up, Isabella," Marian snapped at her. "I don't believe your lies."

"_Queen_ Isabella, Lady Locksley," Isabella corrected her. "You will address me properly, drowning in green goo or not."

"She's lying, Marian," Robin told his wife. "We were trapped here, with water rising to drown us, and I did tell her to take off her dress, but it was to fashion a rope, like I said. Unknown to her, my thoughts were only of you."

"I believe you," Marian assured him. "Any chance you can shoot a rope through a ring and get us out today?"

"Hold on, my love. I'll think of something. I love you. You're not going to die, not today."

"You can't die, either, Robin. I love you, my husband."

"How sweet," Isabella sneered. "Too bad, you're both wrong. No matter! Locksley will revert to the Crown when you're dead, and your brat will become a ward of the Crown. I might even convince my husband, should he survive his fatal disease, to let us raise her! I do so adore children, after all. Remember Bat, my brother's bastard son? Poor little tongueless waif! Couldn't even tell you how he wasted away, after dining with me!"

"You poisoned him?" Marian accused, tears stinging her eyes.

"You can't have Ellie," Robin vowed. "I'll kill you first."

"Empty threats again, Robin? My, my! I tremble with fear! Ha! But really, the stench is getting too much for me, and I must change my jewels. I think I'll wear my new emerald ring! It holds such sentimental value, after all. But never fear, Robin, my love. I'll return to watch you turn as green as the bath surrounding you! Ta ta!"

"Marian," Robin said desperately, once Isabella had gone, "See if you can float. This sludge is thick. It might hold you up, but if you swallow it..."

The sludge was oozing above her chin, soon to reach her mouth and then, her nostrils. With a little gasp, Marian pushed off from the floor, relieved to find she could indeed float easily.

"Well, that bought us some time," she said.

"I once told your father," Robin confessed to her, "I probably don't deserve you. I was right; I don't. I'm sorry again, I played with your feelings. You were right, my love. I treated you like a child yesterday, when I was the one behaving like one."

Although Marian was moved, his words concerned her. "Is that a dying confession?" she asked.

"No. A living one. I'll get us out of here."

Thinking and praying as hard as he could, Robin found hope when Much arrived, hurrying down the dungeon steps so quickly he nearly tripped and fell.

"Ugh!" he cried out, grimacing. "It stinks!"

"Much!" Robin called. " Another answer to my prayers, again! Hurry! Tell Will the moat's backed up on us! Tell him to reverse its flow!"

"Before, or after I give you the keys to your cells?"

Holding the keys triumphantly above his head, Much grinned, enjoying Robin and Marian's grateful smiles and cries of thanksgiving.

"After!" Robin declared. "Get Marian out, NOW!"

"Robin, how? The lock's under the...under the...oh! This is revolting!"

"Give me the keys," Robin commanded, knowing it would be up to him to unlock his cell so he could unlock hers.

"Catch," Much told him, tossing them at his friend. "Sorry! If they'd been your sword, my aim would have been perfect!"

The keys had fallen far too short, and even though Robin dove for them, they sank slowly and disappeared beneath the filthy sludge.

In an instant, Robin disappeared as well, diving to retrieve them. After a few thwarted attempts, he finally emerged from under the sludge, covered in slime, but holding the key ring above his head.

"Which key?" he wondered, before diving back under again.

"Don't worry, Marian," Much counselled, worried enough for both of them. "Robin's more fit than anyone I know! He can hold his breath for hours!"

She knew he was exaggerating, but she clung to hope as well. If anyone could save them, it would be Robin.

"Go," she told Much. "Tell Will, just as Robin told you to. One way or another, we're getting out of here."

"Yes! Of course! Will! What am I supposed to tell him, again?"

At that precise moment, Robin's head appeared outside his cell. He'd found the right key, and unlocked his door, and was swimming toward Marian's cell as quickly as a man could move, with a wounded leg, through thick sludge. Taking a deep breath, he disappeared once again under the sludge.

"You're almost free!" Much cried, excitedly. "I knew it, Marian! I knew Robin could do it!"

Marian was almost crying, she was so glad.

"And wait until you hear what else we found buried where the moat used to be," Much told her.

"My earrings?" she asked.

"Bigger," Much told her. "Much bigger. A body! Well, what used to be a body. A skeleton, a big one. Everybody's saying it's...it's Gisbourne."

"Guy?" The name had slipped out, and Marian was glad Robin was still under the muck, so he hadn't heard.

She felt a wave of varied emotions at the news, disbelief, relief, and a touch of unexplained...not exactly sorrow, but regret. What a terrible place for any person to rest! Guy had lived, committing horrible, cruel, shameful acts, but she'd never given up hope that he might change, and choose good over evil. If it were truly his remains, he'd died in shame as well.

"The...the skeleton's his size, and very few people are that big," Much told her. "Were that big," he amended. "And I must say, I am relieved. Wait until I tell Robin!"

Just then Robin's head reappeared, just beside Marian. Throwing her arms around his neck, she hugged him, filled with love, gratitude, and unspeakable joy.

"I'm sorry, but we have to go under," Robin told her, grinning. "Hold onto me, and don't breathe. We're getting out of here, Marian. Ready?"


	62. Chapter 62

Scrub as she might, the stench of moat sludge continued to cling to Marian's skin. Still, it felt wonderful, relaxing in a warm rose scented bath, under her own roof, well fed, well loved, well rested.

"You look content. Not to mention...enticing."

"Step closer and take a deep whiff," she told her husband, who had somehow managed to seemingly materialize out of thin air in her bath chamber. "Not so enticing, you'll discover."

Robin was wearing his thick, dark blue robe, fresh from his own bath, his hair still damp.

"You forget, Marian," he told her, his voice low and warm and tempting, "I smell every bit as bad as you."

Her dimples deepened. "Is that meant to impress me? Of all the dribble you've ever spouted, Robin, that has got to be the weakest."

"Would you have me lie, and tell you your delicate scent delights my senses?"

"If you smell so foul, why did you end your bath?"

"I was missing you. Thought we might share a bath, as well as a bed. You know, you could scrub my back, and I'll scrub yours."

Her eyes sparkled their approval to his plan, and he shed his robe and quickly slid behind her into the copper tub.

"There," he said, burying his lips into her neck, "isn't this a lot more fun than soaking all alone?"

She found her back swaying sideways, back and forth, rubbing against the hardness of his chest. "You're supposed to be scrubbing," she mentioned, closing her eyes to better savor the delicious sensations beginning to tingle throughout her body, at the touch of his. "There's soap in the tub, somewhere. A gift from Queen Eleanor."

"I'll find it," he teased, groping expertly about under the water, not seeking the soap.

Marian's head fell back against his shoulder on its own accord, tilting up to reach his wonderful mouth, whose unhurried, deliberate, delicious kisses sent even more waves of tingling pleasure cascading through every inch of her body. Her eager willing responsiveness fired him, deepening his kisses and caresses.

Marian's soft moans of pleasure were cut short, when a crisp knock rapped upon their door, and the sound of Thornton, clearing his throat in the hallway, mortified her.

"Pardon me, Master Robin," the old servant was saying. "Matilda is here, and wishes to see you and Her Ladyship."

"Thank you," Robin answered politely, keeping the disappointment out of his voice. "Give us a moment, and we'll be down."

"Begging your pardon, Master," Thornton continued, clearing his throat again, as if it negated any bad news. "But she's coming up the stairs now. No! You cannot go in there!"

"Did you lock the door?" Marian asked Robin, breathlessly.

Before he could answer, or move to grab his robe or even a towel, the door was flung open, and Matilda appeared in the door frame, hands on hips, shaking her head and clicking her tongue at the young lovers.


	63. Chapter 63

"Celebrating, are we?"

From her place in the doorway, Matilda clicked her tongue and shook her head at a confident, self composed Robin, whose bulging arms tightly enfolded his flame cheeked wife in a bath.

"Exactly what part of my order 'bed rest' can't you understand?" Matilda scolded.

"The last time I checked, Matilda," Robin smirked back, ignoring her question, "common courtesy required it customary to knock before entering."

With only a lift of her eyebrows and an amused, wry smile, Matilda clenched her fist into a ball and rapped three slow, distinct knocks on the open door beside her.

"There! Courtesy honored. Now," she said, holding her fist before her face, "unless you want this making contact with your perfect profile, stand up."

"I won't," Robin declared, looking and sounding a bit like a spoiled child.

"Why not? Do you think I care if your soldier's standing at full attention?"

"Matilda!"

"I'm only here to look at your leg. And as for you," she scolded, staring down an angry, embarrassed Marian, "step out of that tub and get to bed. I'll be in to check on you as soon as I'm done with this one."

"How dare you?" Marian finally managed to ask. "We don't need to be mollycoddled. We need to get clean."

"Mollycoddled, is it?" Matilda snorted. "If that's what you think I'm about, you deserve the tongue lashing I'm all set to give you! What do you think you're about, young lady, throwing yourself into danger? And what's that you're using to wash off the muck?"

During this exchange, Robin was reaching for his robe, having no intention of exposing all his glory to Matilda's uninterested eyes. While Matilda and Marian continued arguing, he managed to grab it, stand, push his arms through the sleeves, and fasten it closed, before Matilda could laugh at him.

"Rose petals, rose-water, and the finest soap from Aquitaine," Marian answered, ignoring the more important question.

"Hmph!" Matilda snorted. "Fine lot of good that'll do you! It'll mask the stench, but do precious little to remove it."

"What do you suggest we use?" Marian asked, nodding at her husband when he held out his hand, ready to help her rise and wrap her in a towel.

Despite Matilda's presence, Robin couldn't take his eyes off his wife when she stood up. He forgot all about handing her the towel, made awestruck by the incredible loveliness of her body, dripping wet, with its belly's gentle swell. That perfectly gorgeous body he longed to cover with kisses was sheltering their child, nurturing and protecting it, until it was time for it to be born. Another miracle, just as Ellie was. Robin realized he needed to do more to shelter and protect Marian. Matilda was right, he decided. He couldn't allow her to put herself in harm's way again.

His mind's reverie was cut short when Marian yanked the towel from his hand. Robin couldn't help but smile, finding Marian looking so adorable wrapped in a towel, her eyes flashing with indignation.

"Give yourselves a good scrubbing with this," Matilda advised, digging through her sack and tossing Robin a bar of soap. "Made from sand, ashes, lye, and tallow fat. None of your flowery ointments, but it'll rub the stink away."

"And burn the skin off with it," Robin grinned. "No thank you, Matilda. We'll stick to Queen Eleanor's ointments. Besides, I'm thinking it might not be such a bad thing, for my wife and I to smell less than fragrant for a couple of days. Might take care of a problem or two."

"What problems?" Marian asked, before Matilda could ask the same question.

"King John and the chancellor's wife, for starters," Robin laughed.

"Robin, what are you planning now?" Marian wondered.

"Whatever it is, it had better involve bed rest," Matilda scolded. "And that goes double for you," she scolded Marian. "Back to bed with you, this instant! And stay there, until I say you may get up!"

Having no desire to listen to any more lectures while dressed in nothing but a towel, Marian left the bath chamber and headed back to bed, leaving Robin alone with Matilda's scolding tongue.

"So," the healer began, "let's take a look at that leg. I can take the stink, even if you do niff to high heaven."

"Is it that bad?" Robin asked, laughing. "I think I've gotten used to it."

"Only when you get up close," she answered honestly. "Now, lift your robe, so I can access the damage."

Robin obeyed, lifting the left side of his robe to his hip, exposing his wounded thigh. While Matilda probed and prodded, clucking and shaking her head all the while, Robin asked, "There's no chance Marian caught an infection, from the moat? She seems perfectly well."

"She might have," Matilda admitted. "You certainly did. Drop your robe; I've seen enough. What's the matter with you?" she asked, chucking him on the side of his head. "Don't have the sense you were born with! Do you really want to end up like Gisbourne, buried under the moat, where nobody knew until today?"

"Gisbourne? What are talking about?"

"You haven't heard? Your wife's emerald earrings weren't the only treasure found, when Will sent the moat backing up on you! Gisbourne's bones were there...been there since he disappeared, it would seem. The Queen's making quite a show of grief, milking her lies for all they're worth. The king, by the way, made a miraculous recovery, soon as Djaq told him he could heal himself, by placing his hands on his own head to drive out his imaginary illness. The whole thing's a great diversion away from him wanting to recapture you, by the way. But never you mind. He'll grow bored soon enough, and come looking for you."

"What about Gisbourne?" Robin demanded again.

"Ask your wife," Matilda counselled. "With your leg infected, you're going to have plenty of time to chat. It's back to bed rest for you, too, laddie! Now, take this ointment and rub it into your leg, three times a day. And get to bed! Never mind me. I'll just see to your wife now, and be on my way, leaving you to enjoy your heart to heart, and catch up on all the news she's been keeping from you concerning that dim-witted fox turd, Sir Guy of Gisbourne, may his blackened soul rot in hell."


	64. Chapter 64

Robin kept his tongue while Matilda examined Marian, but once she'd confirmed all was well and departed, he entered his bedchamber and suspiciously asked, "So, Marian, why didn't you tell me Gisbourne's remains were found in the moat?"

"Two reasons, Robin," Marian answered defensively, sitting up in their bed. "First and foremost, I knew you'd react exactly the way you are."

"And how is that?" he snapped, folding his arms over his chest.

"Unjustifiably jealous and angry. I can't mention the name Gisbourne around you, without you launching into a tirade."

"What tirade? I haven't said a word."

"You will!"

With an unpleasant laugh, he asked, "What else are you hiding from me, Marian?"

"Nothing, and you know it. I thought you claimed you wanted to be a better husband. You're acting more like that baseborn James Fitzhugh than the man I thought I married. Besides, aren't you supposed to be in bed?"

"I'm keeping my temper, and my tongue, under control. You're the one behaving unfairly. I'll ask you again. Why didn't you mention Gisbourne's body was discovered? Unhappy it might be true?"

"Grow up."

"Why can't you be truthful with me? You never used to be a liar!"

"A liar? How dare you?"

"Do you deny you're good at twisting the truth?"

"I taught myself to lie _because_ of Gisbourne, Robin, to help you, and the poor; not because I wanted to! I hated lying, every bit as much as you hated stealing. It was wrong, but it was the choice we had to follow, under the circumstances. If you can't understand that, you're not the man I believed you to be."

Her words chastised him, banishing his anger and giving him back his sense of reason. He felt so sorry, he didn't feel the pain in his leg when he dropped to his knees at their bedside, and reached for her hand.

"Marian, I'm sorry," he told her. "I've never hated anyone as much as I hate Gisbourne. You're right; I lose my reason when I think of him. Even dead, he drives me to say things I shouldn't. I did not mean what I said to you just now. Forgive me?"

Instead of answering him directly, she sat looking searchingly into his eyes. Sorrow and regret stared back at her, accompanied by deep, unending love. "Hold me, Robin," she asked him simply, which he happily did, after climbing beside her in their bed. Settling back into his arms, she added, "I think it's past time we had a real talk about him. You need to listen to me, really listen for once, and-"

"I always listen to you, my love."

"No, you don't. You hear what you want to, and shift the conversation to lighter topics when the truth becomes too much for you."

"I'm no coward, Marian. I don't run. From anything."

"I'm not calling you a coward, Robin. No one could ever accuse you of cowardice."

"But...?"

"But you avoid discussing things you ought to talk about. You always have, but it's grown worse since you were a Crusader."

"I think I've gotten better, since our marriage. You've seen to that. You force me to talk."

Marian wanted to roll her eyes, knowing how difficult it was to get him speak a single word about his recurring nightmares, for instance. But she knew that her husband needed understanding, and she was ready and willing to supply it.

"You think you have to be strong, not to feel, because so many people depend on you. But I know you, Robin. You are strong, but you feel things deeply, so deeply they sometimes hurt, physically. I'm right, aren't I?"

"I feel for you. I love you."

"I know, and I'm glad. I love you, too. But you don't trust me, Robin."

"How can you say that? I trust you! Don't I trust you?"

"If you truly trusted me, you'd never suffer a single twinge of jealousy about Guy...about Gisbourne. Tell me now, Robin. What are you afraid of? That I cared for him?"

She felt him stiffen in her arms. "Did you?" he asked, hurt.

To answer that question, she realized she needed a moment to think. "I had feelings for him once, Robin. No, listen to me! Let me explain what I meant!"

He had pulled away and was staring at her, choosing anger because it was easier to deal with than the pain her words had inflicted.

"Feelings such as repulsion, disgust, frustration, to name a few," she clarified. "Some of the same feelings you had toward him."

"He said you were stirred by him. I'll never forget him telling me that, nor your reaction, when I first mentioned it to you. Your laughter was unconvincing, Marian. Tell me now, since you insist we talk about this. Was it true?"

"Why does it matter? It's over, Robin."

"It's true, then. You were stirred."

"Don't be ridiculous. I despised him, Robin. He was a ruthless killer. More to the point, he sought your death. I wasn't stirred; I was repelled."

"Then why did you evade my question?"

"Listen, and I'll tell you everything, not because I want to, but because I have to. When Guy forced me into an engagement, and I was so angry at you for backing out of our engagement and leaving me-"

"I didn't! I begged you to marry me before I left for battle!"

"A technicality, Robin. The point is, you left. May I finish?"

She pressed her palm to his, then entwined their fingers together.

"Sorry," he told her, puffing the air out of his cheeks. "I'm new to this, don't forget."

"The truth, my love," she told him, "is this. I tried very hard to make the best of what I thought was to be my lot in life. I looked for good in Guy, blotting out the bad, believing I could change him into the man you are. And yes, I may have been stirred, once or twice, believing he could change. I know you don't like hearing it, but think. Were my feelings really any different from yours toward Isabella, when you wanted to believe she was me?"

His wife was right, on many levels. It was hard to face the truth, but it helped, once and for all, to clear the air.

"I never loved her, Marian. Believe me," he implored. "I was lost, and miserable, without you."

"And she is nothing like me. Neither was Guy any way close to the man you are, Robin. I could never love him. I never did. And the one and only time we kissed, to save your life, I felt nothing."

"Nothing?"

She loved to see his smug smile return, even if it was only a shadow of its usual illuminating burst of sunshine. "Nothing at all, I promise," she admitted, honestly. "Whereas, whenever I kiss you..."

Leaning closer, she whispered, "Kiss me now, my darling. Send warm waves of rapture rushing through me, the way only your kisses can do."

"Now, that sounds like a plan," he said, smiling.


	65. Chapter 65

"Do you know," King John told his wife, staring enraptured at his own reflection in a looking-glass, "this splendid new haircut of mine really is stunning! Of course, it took awhile to get used to. To think, I nearly had my barber killed! Who then, would replicate his artistic handiwork?"

"My king," Isabella gushed, "any haircut on your magnificent head would look stunning!"

"Oh, you adorable girl!"

"Your Majesty is the handsomest man I've ever set eyes on."

"Even handsomer than Locksley?"

Isabella didn't miss the threatening bitterness in his tone. Her husband could change his mood quicker than a flash of lightning. Frightened, she knew she would need to tread carefully.

"Him!" she scoffed. "He stinks of moat sludge. Speaking of which, what is Your Majesty planning to do with my poor, lost brother's remains?"

"Oh, come!" he scolded. "You and I both know that body's not Gisbourne."

"Tragically, yes. But oh, how I wish it were! We both know it belongs to one of the men my brother killed, the late Sheriff Vaisey's Master-of-Arms, before Guy killed him and gained his position."

"I saw him, you know," the king continued, again admiring his own reflection.

Isabella nearly dropped Marian's engagement ring. "Who? Guy? Here?" she asked, even more frightened than she'd been at her royal husband's anger.

"Yes, Guy. But no, my sweet. Don't be frightened. Not here. In France. When I got word that the Devil was loose, meaning, of course, my brother Richard was freed from his German prison and was returning to England, what choice had I but to flee to the Court of Philip of France? After all, Philip Capet was only too happy to assist me in trying to supplant Richard, and take the throne that should have always been mine!"

"I'd heard Guy was hiding in France," Isabella commented. "Spreading his usual sunshine, no doubt."

"How the French ladies lusted after him! But he said he was finished with women, forever. 'Don't tell me,' I said to him, 'you've adopted Vaisey's proclivities.' "

"I assume he was bitter over Lady Locksley's betrayal? Was he suffering? How delightful!"

"How well you know your brother, my dear! He was miserable, drunk most of the time."

"Guy? He never used to drink much! He was always too careful, not wanting to lose control."

"Oh, he's lost control, my sweet! He's consumed with hatred for Hood, and the lovely Miriam as well! He's waiting, you know, to seek his revenge."

"If it only didn't make him happy, how I would wish him success!"

"What? You want to see Locksley hurt, as well?"

"As much as my louse of a brother does, I assure you."

The King jumped up from his seat and began to prance about the chamber. "But, my sweet! Why didn't you say so?"

"I've told you, countless times, my king. Nothing would please me more, than to watch Locksley suffer. Unless of course, it would be watching Guy suffer."

"I tried starving him, but he got away," the king pouted. "Locksley always gets away, damn him."

"Well, perhaps we should think of another way to destroy him."

"I know! Let's cut off his balls and feed them to his devoted follower, Bonchurch! Pudgy will eat anything!"

"With respect, my king, I was thinking of something more subtle. Destroy what he loves best in all the world."

"Marian?"

"And their brat."

"I see! Such sport! No wonder I married you and made you Queen! How? And when? I want details! Oh! This will be such good sport!"

"Why not attack his village first? You know what misplaced love he has for his people. Why not burn Locksley to the ground, starting with the orphanage just outside the village?"

"Because, my pet, the village of Locksley pays taxes, thanks to Hood's management. Every peasant there's growing fat and prosperous, under Locksley's leadership. And I just adore tax money! So, your little scheme of burning the village, tempting as it sounds, is out of the question."

"There's still the orphanage. Burn it. Robin would never forgive himself, for not being able to rescue all those poor pathetic little children."

"Yes! A magnificent start! I have an idea! Let's plan a week of daily attacks, on everything Locksley treasures, culminating, of course, in the torture and destruction of his lovely wife and child! Oh! Can't you just see the misery on his face? I hate him, you know. I always have, the little beast. How shall we begin?"

"The orphanage, my king. Sometime tomorrow, a devastating fire will break out, after, of course, the brats and nuns are locked within the building."

"Let's be sure to set the fire sometime after noon. You know how I hate rising early!"

"Of course, my king."

"Excellent! It's settled then. Wouldn't it be sporting, if your brother came back, and helped us?"

"No. We need to do this ourselves."

"As you wish. I really must take Miriam to bed, before she dies. Give her something wonderful to remember, as she breathes her final breath. Do you think she's purposely making herself unattractive, to steer me away?"

"Her hair, you mean?"

"Yes, her hair, for one thing! Shorn like a sheep! And her belly, beginning to swell with Locksley's seed! And now, the stench of moat sludge!"

"All those things are nothing, compared to the scars on her body!"

"Scars?"

"Yes, my king. Hideous scars, inflicted on her by my brother Guy."

"You don't say! Hmm. How ghastly. I know! Why should Gisbourne be the only one to have fun? What if, instead of killing her, we sharpen our sword, and ruin her beauty? You know, mar her angel face! Slit her nostrils, pop out one eye! Burn the perfect bloom right off her cheeks!"

"Making Robin watch, of course!"

"Of course! Oh, my dear, I don't think I can wait a week! I want to get started now!"

"Patience, my king. Build upon Robin's suffering, step by step. It will allow us to savor his agony."

"We'll hurt his friend Bonchurch. Yes! Torture him. Cut out his tongue! That will stop his endless chatter!"

"Yes! yes! And poison the baby in Marian's womb!"

"And drop his spotted child from the very top of the castle, and watch her go splat on the ground below!"

"Of course! Robin is in for the week of his life. We'll wipe the arrogant smirk off his face. He will suffer like Pharaoh, with the plagues of Egypt!"

"What?"

"Never mind, my king. Study your magnificent hair cut, and don't tax your already overworked mind with trivialities."

"My hair is splendid, isn't it? I believe I will give Marian one final chance, I think, to enjoy the man as well as her king! Before we change her appearance, of course. After all, she was the first to recognize how very handsome I look, in my new hair style!"


	66. Chapter 66

"No, Boo," Robin chuckled, amused by his daughter's antics. "Not in your mouth."

Marian, lying in bed with her eyes closed, listened and smiled drowsily, as Robin animated their chess pieces before Ellen's fascinated gaze.

"Horsies," Ellen named two of the pieces excitedly.

"You're right," Robin grinned. "Or, more precisely, knights. The bold and brave Sir Robin, and the evil and treacherous Sir Guy."

Marian's smile turned to a pout, and she would have rolled her eyes, had they been open. Robin, meanwhile, was making a great show of making the knights' heads collide.

"So die all traitors!" he announced, enjoying himself immensely as he made the white knight triumph over the black. "Into the moat with you, Traitor!"

Marian was too sleepy to argue, but she showed her annoyance by rolling onto her side and showing Robin her back. Immediately, he flung himself over her, pressing kisses on her face until she couldn't help but smile again.

"Get off me, Handsome," she murmured, halfheartedly pushing him away, her condition making her sleepy.

"Castle," Ellen announced, holding up another chess piece.

Robin sat back up, facing his daughter on the bed. "That's called a rook," he told her. "And here are the kings and queens. Good King Richard and his mother, Queen Eleanor, and these black ones are John and Isabella. Shall we toss them into the moat, too?"

"Yea!" Ellen cheered, clapping her tiny hands.

Robin flicked the black king and queen pieces off his bed, then introduced Ellen to the two bishops.

"Looks like Good is winning," he grinned. "Now, although not technically bishops, let's call the white piece Tuck, even if he is on the thin side, and the black-hearted fiend..." He glanced quickly at Marian's lovely sleeping face, making certain she wouldn't hear him, before continuing, "...Canon Berkley. I once knocked this monster down a flight of stairs. Should have broken his neck."

"Moat! Moat!" Ellen begged.

"You do it, Boo," Robin invited, growing somber, "in honor of your grandfather."

Ellen dropped the black bishop off the bed, then climbed onto her father's lap.

"More?" she asked hopefully, gazing up at him.

"I think that's all for now."

"Daddy sad?"

"Now, how did you know that? Not anymore, Boo. Not with you looking at me like that, nor with your mother sleeping safe and sound beside me."

"Shh," Ellen warned him, putting one finger to her lips.

"That's right," he whispered, grinning again. "We don't want to wake your mother. Now, who could that be?"

The sound of a carriage below in their yard drew Robin, with Ellen in his arms, to the window. He didn't speak, but groaned inwardly when he recognized Annora Fitzhugh stepping from her coach.

"I'm sorry, Madame," Thornton was trying to insist. "Master Robin is not to be disturbed."

"But I have to see him!" Annora cried, nearly hysterical.

"Come on, Boo," Robin sighed. "I have a feeling Mistress Fitzhugh won't give Thornton any peace, unless she hears firsthand she's not wanted."

Without putting Ellen down, Robin stepped into his boots and hobbled down his staircase.

"Robin!" Annora cried. "I must speak to you, alone."

"Whatever you have to say must be said before witnesses," Robin told her. "I haven't forgotten your accusations against me, when I was only trying to be polite and show you my horses. By the way, how is your husband enjoying the horse I sold him?"

"He's outraged with you, but I don't care. He found out you tricked him, and he's furious."

Robin couldn't help but smugly snicker, picturing James Fitzhugh trying to play the lord, upon a plow horse's back. "Is that why you're here, Annora? To warn me? Your husband doesn't frighten me."

When Thornton started to depart, Robin stopped him. "No. Stay," he told his faithful steward. "The more pairs of eyes and ears that witness this meeting, the better."

"But I have to see you alone!" Annora cried, breaking into tears.

Robin sighed again, frustrated by the young woman's tears. "Shh," he shushed her, trying to be patient. "It's alright."

His mistake was taking a single step toward her, for she took it as an invitation, flinging herself into his arms. More accurately, she flung herself against his chest, for his arms held tightly to Ellen. Annora lifted her face and began rapidly pecking kisses all over Robin's face and neck, while Ellen and Thornton watched, both of them wide-eyed.

"Annora, stop," Robin commanded. Why did this same scene happen to him, over and over? More times than he could count, a woman would feign distress, and he would offer comfort, only to be mauled by her, his lips ravaged by her kisses. When he'd been on his way home from war, believing he'd lost Marian, more often than not the scene had led to him falling into bed with the seemingly distressed woman. It was frustrating, he was thinking, wondering what flaw he possessed to make him fall for the same ploy over and over again.

"Well, if it isn't Mistress Annoying Fitzhugh," Allan's voice rang out. "Not bein' funny, Robin, but we didn't come here to rescue you."

Robin was relieved to see Allan and Will step through his front door.

"Mistress Fitzhugh was just leaving," Robin told his friends, puffing the air from his cheeks. "Don't tell Djaq I'm up," he mentioned to Will, with a wink.

Will, however, was all seriousness. "We've come to warn you, Robin," he said. "Allan overheard some guards at the Trip say there's going to be a fire in the orphanage later today."

"WHAT?"

"Robin!" Annora cried, hating being ignored.

"Shut up," Allan groaned.

"King John's threatening to burn the place to the ground, just for spite," Will explained.

"Yeah," Allan confirmed. "He's not happy, unless he's torturing some poor, innocent bastard."

"Where are the orphans now?" Robin asked, kissing the top of Ellen's head before handing her to Thornton.

"Tuck's taken them on an outing, to the horse fair," Will replied, glaring at Allan for swearing.

"And the sisters?"

"The nuns went, too," Allan answered. "All except that blind bat, Sister Beatrice."

When Will shot Allan an even fiercer glare, the tavern keeper defended himself by saying, "Oi! She is blind, almost!"

"She's old," Will scolded.

"We don't have time for this," Robin told his friends. "Come on! Allan! I need you to rescue Sister Beatrice-"

"Oi! Why me?"

"By your own admission, you're good with nuns."

"Not old, blind, daft ones!"

"And Will, you and I need to find Tuck, and hide the children."

"Where, Robin?" Will asked. "Any place that harbors them, risks being burned to the ground, as well."

"Which is why we need a really safe place," Robin told him.

"Like...the cave?" Allan asked.

Robin touched his finger to his nose.

"Robin!" Annora cried again.

"Not a word of this to your husband," Robin warned her, hobbling to his front door faster than most men could run on two good legs.

While Will and Allan mounted their horses, Robin grabbed his bow and quiver, then flung himself onto Apollo's back, digging his heels into his destrier's ribs to urge him to a gallop.

Annora, angry, stomped her foot and pouted, staring after him. "I'll teach you to ignore me, Robin of Locksley," she muttered, under her breath.


	67. Chapter 67

"Alright, lads," Robin told the group of wide-eyed orphan boys, forcing joy into his voice, "this is the very same cave where my men and I escaped the rain, our first year living in the forest."

Noticing Allan leaning against a cave wall, nonchalantly using a twig to scrape dirt from under his fingernails, Robin asked, "Where's Sister Beatrice?"

"Nothing to worry about!" Allan sang out. "I brought her here, just like you told me."

"Where is she, Allan?" Robin asked again, more pointedly.

"Not bein' funny, but I think I left her on the back of my horse!"

Robin and Will took one quick look at one another, then rushed outside the cave, only to see poor, decrepit Sister Beatrice slung belly down over the saddle of Allan's horse.

"Help me!" the poor, frail, ancient nun cried, weakly kicking her spindly legs.

"Apologies, Sister," Robin said urgently, easing the terrified woman down to the ground. "Here, take a strengthening sip of wine."

"If that fast talker's not going to hell, I don't know who is!" Sister Beatrice croaked, pointing somewhere in Allan's vicinity.

"Oi! What did I do?" Allan asked, throwing up his hands. "I saved your wrinkled old chicken neck, bringing you here, didn't I?"

"Shh!" Robin warned him. "Let's not let the lads know this is anything but a game."

" 'Cuse me, milord," the chubby cheeked, red-headed Walt asked. "How long are we going to stay here, playing Robin Hood?"

"No more than a few days and nights, I hope," Robin kindly told him, crouching down to meet the boy's gaze at eye level. "But don't worry. We'll bring you pallets and blankets, so you'll sleep comfortably. And Will here, has made something special for each and every one of you."

Grinning, Robin held up enough strung outlaw tags for each boy to have his own. The boys gasped in awe as Robin handed them out.

"Little John," Robin continued, "has agreed to stay with you on your adventure the next couple of days, since he misses being an outlaw, don't you, John? Always let him know if you venture outside the cave, and never, never go anywhere alone. In fact, I think it would be best if you never let John out of your sight. Alright, lads? Give me your word."

"Yes, Master Robin," the boys agreed, ready to do anything to please their hero.

"Good!" Robin stated, smiling. "Now, who's hungry?"

Every child's hand shot into the air, as well as the hands of several nuns. "Looks like I'm catching dinner," Robin grinned. "But who's up for cooking it?"

Sister Agatha timidly volunteered. "Alright, then," Robin grinned. "Will, show them the stream where they can wash. Tuck, be ready to lead them in thanks. I'll be back before you can miss me."

"This is going to be fun!" Walt and the other boys decided, not noticing the worried glances passing between the holy sisters.

...

King John kept his word, ordering the orphanage burned to the ground, even if it was a hollow victory for him, since no nuns nor orphans perished in the flames.

Later that evening at the supper table at Locksley, with Ellen on his lap, Robin told Marian all that had transpired.

"Robin, I want to help," Marian insisted. "The orphanage was their home. I think I know exactly how they'll feel, when they learn their home was burned to the ground."

Touched, Robin leaned toward his wife and gently kissed her lips. "I hadn't thought of that," he realized. "Of course you may help, if Matilda lets you-"

"What? Get out of bed? She didn't give you permission, and you-"

"Alright! What, exactly, my love, are you planning?"

"I was thinking I could contact friends outside the shire, who might take in the boys. Provide them with positions in their households, so that they'll always have a safe place to live, and means to support themselves. Just as we've done for Daniel," Marian added.

"Seems a shame they have to grow up, and work, when they're only lads," Robin mused.

"Would you rather have them never get the chance to grow up?"

"What I'd like to is watch the king leave the shire, so I can rebuild the orphanage, and watch the lads live as the children they are, the way God intended."

"I'd like that too," Marian confirmed, "but first things first. Let me find them safe homes for now, Robin, and after the king grows bored and leaves Nottingham, we can rebuild, and give the boys a choice if they want to return. Some of them might prefer to stay in service, having their futures secure for them."

"I want them to dream, Marian, not just step into a position or a trade, because it's all they know. Ideally, I'd like that for every child in Locksley."

She smiled warmly at him. "And you're doing all you can to help every child under our protection to hope and dream, girls as well as boys. I love you for it, Robin."

"Only for it?" he asked, winking at her.

"There may be one or two other lovable traits clinging to you," she teased. "Thankfully, the smell of the moat is gone from your skin."

"You smell good, too. So good, in fact-"

"Ellie, would you like more bread?" Marian asked, reminding her husband of their child's presence.

...

Just past midnight, Marian awoke to the sound of Robin crying out her name in his sleep.

"Marian!" he sobbed, tears coursing down his cheeks. "I love you! Why did I never say it? I love you! I love you!"

"Robin! Shh! Wake up, my darling. Wake up! You're dreaming again."

Robin awoke, his entire body shuddering. Sitting bolt upright, he stared for a moment at Marian, his mind somewhere between wakefulness and his nightmare. Then, realizing the truth, he reached for her and clasped her tightly in his arms.

"You have said it, darling," Marian comforted him. "I know you love me. And I love you. I have, ever since I can remember."

"I thought you were dead," he told her desperately, brushing his lips again and again in her hair.

_That dream again, _she thought. _Would he never be free from the image of Gisbourne stabbing her on the sands of Acre?_

"It was being there again today," Robin told her, panting. "It brought everything back."

"The cave, you mean? I thought you were dreaming about being in Acre."

"Not this time. I was reliving the first time Gisbourne almost killed you."

Marian didn't speak, not wanting to break the spell. It was a rarity that Robin would open up and confess the nightmares he suffered, preferring to ignore them by putting them out of his mind.

Instead of talking, Marian caressed her husband, lightly running her fingertips through his hair, over his lips and throat, across his back and shoulders, and up and down his strong arms. She knew his body so well now, but it never failed to thrill her. She wasn't feeling amorous, only loving, and Robin felt far too sad from his dream to want anything more than to hold her.

Gradually, his breathing and heartbeats slowed to normal, and Marian began to feel drowsy again.

"Listen," Robin whispered in her ear. "Do you hear it? It's just begun to rain."

"I love to hear the rain on the roof," Marian sighed. "I love falling asleep in your arms. I love how you spoil Ellie, and tease me. I love being married to you, Robin." After a pause, she asked, "Do you think the boys are asleep, in the cave?"

"Only if they can sleep through John's snoring," he chuckled, basking in her loving words.

Marian cracked a smile. "I'll never forget my first night in your gang, and how loud his snoring was."

"You get used to it," Robin snickered. "Sometimes, I even miss it. Though you've just begun snoring again, my love."

"What? No! I don't snore, Robin!"

"Not unless you're expecting! You did it with Ellie, and you've just started again."

"No!"

"Shh! It's alright! It's not loud. I like it. It's so unlike you."

"Swear to me it's only when I'm expecting."

"I swear it."

After another pause, while they listened to the gentle sound of rain, Marian asked, "How loudly do I snore?"

Before he could answer, he sat up in bed, hearing the sound of horses galloping toward Locksley Manor.

"Robin!" Much's voice was crying out, full of terror. "Help me!"


	68. Chapter 68

"Robin, HELP!"

In an instant, Robin seized his bow and nocked an arrow to it, aiming out his window at the soldier most closely trailing Much's galloping horse. Almost as quickly, Marian grabbed her sword and unsheathed its blade.

"Put it back, Marian," Robin ordered his wife, without taking his eyes from the soldier closing in on Much. "Let me handle this."

"Let me help you," she insisted, stubbornly.

There wasn't time to argue, for Much had reached Locksley Manor, and had fallen off his horse, so great was his rush to get inside the house and out of danger.

"Much, bolt the door!" Robin called urgently down to his friend from his vantage point at his upstairs window.

But Much wasn't quick enough. Several soldiers followed him into the manor, and then, to everyone's surprise, Queen Isabella swept in as well, looking beautiful yet lethal, wrapped in a fur-trimmed mantle.

"Stay here," Robin ordered Marian, knowing he was wasting his breath.

Robin stepped from their bedchamber and stood on the upstairs landing, holding his bow in position to shoot. His smug smile at seeing the soldiers back away disappeared off his face, when he felt Marian join him on the landing. He made a quick mental note he ought to install a lock on the outside of their bedroom door, then scoffed it off, picturing Marian, heavy with child, climbing down a rope suspended from their window, with a dagger between her teeth.

"Now, Much," Robin said, the threat of danger in his voice matching the hard look in his eyes, "you know you're always welcome here at Locksley any hour of the day or night. But tell me, why did you bring along such vile company?"

"They want to...they want to cut out my tongue!"

So saying, Much shut his mouth so tightly, he looked as if he'd swallowed his lips.

"That is barbaric!" Marian scolded.

"One might even say, 'revolting,' " Robin added, slowly beginning to descend his staircase. "But don't worry, Much. I, for one, am not about to let them."

"Nor am I," Marian announced, brandishing her sword as she followed at her husband's heels.

"Go back upstairs, Marian," Robin ordered her, quiet but forceful.

"Robin, we're a team," she told him, refusing to obey.

"I don't need _two _people I love, in danger!"

"Do you really think I'll fold my hands and wait quietly upstairs, leaving you to face _her_ all alone?"

He knew it was hopeless. Now he really would need to protect both Much, and his lovely, but obstinate, wife.

Isabella stepped in front of her soldiers, snapping open and shut a pair of heavy iron shears before Much's terrified face.

While still on his steps, Robin fired an arrow, knocking the shears from her hands. Immediately, he nocked another arrow to his bow.

"I see you've lost none of your touch, Robin," Isabella sneered. "Prove to me you haven't, personally, and I'll let Pudgy go free."

"His name is Much."

"Yes, but Pudgy's so much more descriptive!"

"What do you want, Isabella?" Robin asked, coldly.

Rather than answering, she undid the pin holding her cloak closed, so that it dropped to the floor in a swirling mass around her ankles. Marian gasped at the sight of England's Queen, garbed in nothing but a clinging, revealing nightdress, the color of sea-foam, and one jewel...her own beloved emerald engagement ring.

Staring at Isabella's beauty, Marian couldn't help but contrast herself to the other trim, seductive woman, feeling herself ungainly and unattractive by comparison.

"If you insist upon shedding your skin, like the snake you are," Robin told the queen, smugly, "I suggest you do it outside, rather than in my hall."

"Did you hear about the fire in the orphanage?" Isabella asked him. "So sad, yet it took me back to another day, when there was a similar inferno here in your little village. Remember when my husband ordered your church burnt? Better still, remember what happened between us, after I helped you put it out? I never look at a fire without remembering the one we blazed together, Robin. Don't say you don't think upon it, too. Your smile right now...your intense gaze, speak volumes. You like my gown, don't you?"

"I'm only thinking how gorgeous someone else would look, draped in something like that," he answered, winking at his wife.

Nearly every pair of male eyes turned to stare appreciatively at Marian, causing her to blush, torn between feeling proud and being insulted.

"Sorry, my love," Robin told her. "I really couldn't help picturing that!"

"A fine sight she'd be," Isabella shrieked jealously, "with her chopped off hair and her bloated belly!"

"Yes, she would, and is," Robin agreed passionately, "even without the trapppings of such a gown. Tell me, does your husband know you're here, flaunting yourself before the eyes of his soldiers?" He snickered, mockingly. "King John can't like that!"

Before she could answer, Robin leaped at her and grabbed both her wrists in one hand.

"Unhand me, Locksley!" Isabella cried. "Guards! Seize him!"

Marian held out her sword, and Much withdrew his own from its sheath as well. The sole soldier who had taken a step toward Robin, now backed away.

With his free hand, Robin twisted Marian's ring off Isabella's finger, then smirked, "I found your earrings in the moat, and now, Wren, looks like I've got your ring back. Now, all I need to do is take back Maggie's false gems from Mistress Fitzhugh, and I'll be free and clear on the matter of jewelry."

"You dare humiliate me like this, Locksley?" Isabella shrieked. "Don't you know, this is just the beginning?"

"No, it's the end. Goodnight, Your Majesty," Robin said with mocking scorn, releasing her wrist. "My wife, as you can see, is an expectant mother, and therefore, needs her rest. It's late. I suggest you take your cowering soldiers from my house, and head back to the castle. And if you happen to travel further than Nottingham, and end up in another castle; say, the castle of Edinburgh, for example, no one in this shire will waste any tears, bidding you goodbye."

"I wouldn't!" Much agreed, then snapped his lips shut, in fear for his tongue.

Turning to face the soldiers, Robin ordered, "Get off my property, now. And take your poisonous mistress with you."

"This isn't finished, Locksley!" Isabella shrieked.

"Goodnight, Isabella," Robin smirked, grabbing her elbow and steering her out his door.

Once the queen and her soldiers were gone, Robin leaned against his door, then breathed out a relieved sigh. "Much, better stay here tonight."

"Yes! I will! Yes! She is revolting! Unbelievable! She was going to... to cut out my tongue!"

"That will never happen," Robin assured him. "I swear it, Much. You're safe, under my roof."

"Thank you! I always have been, you know. I only wish Eve knew I was safe."

"Someone really ought to tell her, Robin," Marian added.

"Agreed. But it won't be you, my love. You're supposed to be in bed, you know."

"You are, too, Robin," Marian reminded him.

"Any volunteers willing to head to Bonchurch?" Robin asked.

When Robin's manservant Thomas raised his hand, Much grew jealous. "Him!" he snorted. "Unbelievable! He does nothing all day to serve you, Robin, and now...! I hate show offs! I hate them!"

"Good man, Thomas," Robin said, casting an amused but warning glance Much's direction. "Come on," he added, slipping his arm around Marian's waist. "It's past time we were in bed again."

Grinning down at his beautiful wife, Robin wanted nothing more than to be alone with her again, so he could slip her ring back on her finger, in the privacy of their bedroom.


	69. Chapter 69

"You like having Much under your roof again, don't you?" Marian asked Robin hollowly, standing beside their bed.

Robin, stretched out upon their mattress, waiting for her to join him, bent one arm behind his head and answered, "Yes, I do. But it's _our_ roof, Marian. _Our_ home. _Our_ bed."

The unmistakable look in his eyes matched his voice, warm and sensual, loving and inviting.

"Don't," Marian snapped at him.

Robin was taken aback, not understanding his wife's angry response.

With concern, he sat up, to better study her face. "What is it, Marian? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she snapped back at him.

"Is it Much? I only told him to stay for his safety. Who's to say that Isabella and her minions won't be hiding somewhere down the road, waiting to ambush him?"

"I would have thought you'd want to stay up the rest of the night, downing ales and joking with him!"

"But I'm not. I'm here, with you."

Rising from the bed, Robin approached her and tried to brush her cheek with his thumb, but found his hand slapped away.

"Don't touch me!"

"Marian!"

After a moment, Robin laid his hands gently over hers. He felt her tense, but at least she didn't fling his hands away. "What is it, my love?" he asked, with genuine concern. "What did I do, to make you angry?"

"You don't know? Men!"

Puffing out a sigh, Robin tried to think of anything he might have said or done to earn this reaction. The only thing he could think of was his comment in front of a roomful of soldiers, about picturing Marian wearing Isabella's revealing nightdress.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, Marian," he told her, sincerely. "I shouldn't have made that comment about you in the gown, causing all the men to leer at you like that."

"You liked that gown!" she accused him, making him realize what had really caused her anger.

"No, I didn't. It was inappropriate, and wrong, for Isabella to flaunt herself in it, but typical of her. It only shows how desperate she is, to try and-"

"To try and, what, Robin? Attract you? Seduce you?"

"Don't tell me you're jealous! Believe me, my love, you have no cause."

Once again, he tried to caress her cheek, and again, had his hand slapped away.

"I love you, Marian," he told her, passionately.

He believed her pregnancy was making her unreasonable. It had to be! Marian knew his heart belonged to her...had always belonged to her.

"If you think for one moment, Robin of Locksley," she scolded him, with flashing eyes, "you can enjoy my body, after the sight of another woman, especially _her_, ignited your lust, you-"

"Marian! Stop! That's not what happened!"

"Isn't it? I saw the gleam in your eyes, when she threw off her cloak!"

"That's because I was picturing you, stretching the fabric of that gown so tightly-"

"Stretching? Do you think I'm fat?"

"No! Marian!"

"You do! Well, I can't help it! I didn't ask for full breasts, you know!"

"Neither did I, but I'm glad God blessed you with them!"

"How dare you?"

"I'm sorry! That just slipped out. But it's true, Marian. You know how much I-"

"Yes, I do, but that's beside the point. You think I'm fat! For your information, Locksley, I'm pregnant, and it's all because of you!"

Speechless, Robin could only stare at this raving creature who used to be his wise, intelligent, rational wife.

This was supposed to be a beautiful, romantic moment. He had placed her emerald ring under his pillow, and had been looking forward to telling and showing her how much she meant to him, not ever anticipating this reaction!

Was she really jealous, of Isabella? To his mind, it was unthinkable...ludicrous! It was time to reassure her that she had no cause to feel that way.

"Come here," he invited, soothingly, holding her hands and sitting down on the edge of their bed.

Marian let him pull her gently to the bedside, but she wouldn't sit. Instead, she stood over him, forcing herself not to cry.

"You," he told her, "are beautiful, Marian."

"I'm not."

"You are. Every man in our house tonight, with the exception of Much, couldn't take his eyes off you, even while Isabella stood there, only partially dressed."

"I snore," Marian pouted. "My hair's short, and my belly's round."

"You're gorgeous."

"I still snore."

"Only when you're asleep."

At that, Marian couldn't help but smile.

"Come here," Robin invited, pulling her down onto his lap.

He teased her by pretending to grimace under her weight, then laughed to let her know he was joking.

Marian was herself again, rolling her eyes indulgently at his attempt at humor.

"Sorry," she said, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Tenderly kissing the top of her head, he told her, "Shh. It's alright. I ought to be more understanding, I guess. You're just so beautiful, I can't imagine you feeling insecure."

"I'm happy I'm with child. I love our baby already. It's just a change, is all."

"I want to do more for you, my love."

"I'm not helpless, Robin. Not yet anyway. When can we tell Ellie?"

"Why not tomorrow?"

Marian's smile was one of pure joy now. "I can't wait."

She yawned, and Robin realized his own needs and desires would have to wait. But he could still give her back her ring, in the most beautiful, romantic way he knew.

"Let's get to sleep, my love," he invited, kissing her hair once more.

Lying down, Marian rolled over to spoon her back against his chest, then closed her eyes and uttered a sigh of complete contentment.

"I love you, my husband," she said drowsily.

"And I love you."

Realizing words weren't needed, Robin wrapped her in his arms, then lifted her left hand to his lips. Marian's smile deepened as she felt him press a kiss into her palm, and another and another upon her thumb and each of her fingertips.

Her eyes opened in delight when she felt him slide her ring onto her finger.

"I love you, my wife," Robin breathed passionately into her ear.

Losing all traces of tiredness, Marian rolled over, wrapped her arms around his neck, and began kissing him every bit as passionately as he was kissing her.


	70. Chapter 70

"Daddy!"

Ellen toddled delightedly to her father when he came down the staircase the following morning, to join her and Much at breakfast.

"Your leg seems better," Much commented, between mouthfuls of ham, bread, and eggs.

Robin's smile was incandescent as he scooped his daughter up in his arms, kissed her, and looked at her adoringly. "It is!" he agreed. "Hardly a twinge of pain left, to remind me of our illustrious queen's poisonous fangs."

Much shuddered. "Her! Why would she do that to me, Robin? Why would she try to cut out my tongue?"

Sitting across from Much with Ellen on his lap, Robin asked, "Why does she do any of the treacherous things she tries? She's evil, Much. Just like her brother, may he rot in..."

He stopped himself, remembering how his precious daughter soaked up every word he said.

Deftly changing the subject, he asked, "How did you sleep, my friend? Glad to be back, under Locksley's roof once more?"

Much grinned. "I would have slept better, if your house wasn't haunted!"

"Haunted? Locksley's not haunted, Much."

"Then what were all those moans I heard, on the other side of the wall?"

Much's joke fell flat, for just as he was speaking, Marian appeared, hearing every word.

Knowing Much had taken the room next to hers and Robin's, she blushed to the roots of her hair, causing Much to blush as well. Robin tried to smooth things over.

"Good morning, again, Marian," he smiled, rising politely to his feet.

"Mama!"

Ellen held out her arms, and Marian was only too happy to take her child, and bury her face in her hair.

Since Robin had risen, Much stood, too, sputtering, "S-s-sorry! I shouldn't have said that!"

"Shh," Robin shushed him quietly, knowing it would be better to simply drop the topic and speak of other things.

"Good morning, Lord Bonchurch," Marian recovered, feeling the mood in the room called for formality.

"Morning!" Much shouted out, far too loudly.

"Now," Robin said, sitting after Marian set Ellen down and took a seat at the table, "my wife and I have something to say to our daughter. Come here, Boo."

Ellen climbed happily onto her father's lap, her usual seat at their table, and stared adoringly up at him.

Robin looked to Marian, knowing how much this moment meant to her.

"Daddy and I have something wonderful to tell you," Marian said, her eyes shining with excitement. "Before too long, a new baby will be coming to live with us. You're going to be a big sister! Would you like that, Ellie?"

"I know," Ellen said, casually.

"You do?" Marian asked, looking at Robin in surprise. "How do you know?"

"Uncle Much told me," the small child answered, nibbling a piece of buttered bread.

"Well, excuse me for trying to make conversation! Nobody told me it was supposed to be a secret!" Much defended himself, shrinking from the dual glares of both Robin and Marian.

For an instant, Marian almost wished the queen had succeeded with her evil deed the night before, but quickly forgave Much. He was only being Much, after all.

"It's alright, Much," Robin grinned, suddenly finding the humor in the situation. "So, Ellie Boo, what do you want? A baby brother, or sister?"

"I want Mama's new horsie back."

Robin's grin widened as he looked lovingly back and forth between his wife and daughter. "Well, leave that to me! I have a plan to do just that."

"Robin...!" Much warned.

"A plan?" Marian asked, torn between eagerness and alarm. "What plan?"

"You'll see," Robin grinned wickedly.

"Unbelievable!" Much cried out. "After...after...after all that's happened! Throwing yourself into danger several times a week isn't enough for you...No! You have to do it every single solitary day! You know, Robin, there really is something wrong with you!"


	71. Chapter 71

Robin breathed a sigh of relief, realizing he'd entered his bedchamber at just the right moment.

Snuggled against her mother in her parents' bed, Ellen was beginning to awaken from her early afternoon nap and stir. Marian, catching a well deserved nap as well, still slept soundly.

Chuckling under his breath at the sound of his beautiful wife's soft snores brought on by her pregnancy, Robin tiptoed to the bed and lifted the warm bundle that was his daughter, holding her against his full heart.

"Shh," he whispered. "Let's not wake up Mama."

"Did you have a nice nap?" he asked, carrying Ellen down Locksley Manor's staircase after changing her diaper. The spring in his step betrayed no sign of the recent wound to his leg. Robin's heart was overflowing, just from the sight of mother and child, sleeping peacefully side by side, in the home he loved.

"Are you hungry, Boo?" he asked, knowing Ellen usually had a light snack when she woke up from her nap. "I invited Daniel in, to share a snack with you."

"Dink," she answered, adoring this moment with her Daddy.

Daniel stood waiting by the table, which Mary had set with milk, berries, buttered bread, and several puddings.

"Good!" Robin smiled at his servant woman. "Looks like enough to feed every child in Locksley! Whatever these two don't eat, set outside for the village. Would have been fun to invite them all inside, but how would Mama sleep then?" he asked Ellen, grinning.

Contentedly watching the children eat, his thoughts wandered to the orphans. Marian had been true to her word, finding safe homes for them for the time being. The nuns had taken sanctuary in either Ripley or Kirklees Abbies, Robin thought with satisfaction, so all was solved on that account. Time to put another plan into action, and get Marian's new horse back.

"Daniel," Robin asked, "do you still have your slingshot?"

Mouth full of bread, Daniel could only nod his head in reply.

"Any chance I might borrow it?"

"Of course! Anything for you, Robin!"

"Good lad. I need it, to honor Ellie's request." Grinning at his daughter, Robin asked, "Ready for me to bring Pox home?"

"Yay!" Ellen cheered, clapping her sticky little hands in glee.

"What's your plan?" Daniel asked, longing to play a part in it.

Robin grew confidential, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he answered. "Seeing as how you're so trustworthy, I'll tell you," he said, grinning. "Now, Daniel, I could steal my wife's own horse back, but where would be the fun in that?"

"And, the king would just steal Pox back again."

"Smart lad! Not to mention, lock me in the dungeon again, and I've already spent more time there than I'd like to remember! So, I was thinking, I could convince King John to give me back Lady Locksley's horse, with a little help from your slingshot."

"You're not going to shoot pebbles at the king, are you?" Daniel asked, his mouth agape.

"Nothing so tempting as that," Robin answered, chuckling. "I only plan to turn Pox into the worst behaved horse in England. The next time I see King John on his back, your slingshot will encourage Pox to bolt, or better yet, throw His Majesty to the ground. Blunted arrows could accomplish the same magic, but pebbles leave no trace."

"It won't hurt Pox, will it?" kind-hearted Daniel asked.

"No more than a tiny sting. Well worth it, to trade the king for my wife as an owner!"

Daniel's eyes were wide, picturing Robin's plan in his mind. "Robin, let me shoot," he begged. "No one can outshoot you with the bow, but I'm good with the slingshot."

"So you are, but it wouldn't be safe for you. I'm sorry, Daniel, but I can't risk it. If the king suspected what was behind Pox bolting..."

"Be careful, then, Robin," Daniel told him seriously, pulling his slingshot off his belt and handing it to his master. "You mustn't let the king suspect it's you shooting, either."

"Don't worry about me. I can blend into the forest, remember, so he'll never know what hit him."

"I thought you weren't planning on hitting the king!" Daniel cried.

Just at that moment, Much strode through the door, took one look at Robin, and cried, "Oh, no! I know that look! That look means trouble!"


	72. Chapter 72

"Unbelievable! Outrageous!" Much complained, as he and Robin hid within a grove of ash trees along the Great North Road, waiting for the king to ride by, astride Pox.

"What's outrageous, Much?" Robin asked, knowing Much would tell him anyway, whether he asked or not.

Robin thought it wise to make polite conversation with his best friend, to help calm Much's anxious nerves over their simple errand. Daniel had alerted them that King John was heading their direction, and all they had to do was to wait for him to appear, pass by, and then, using Daniel's slingshot, shoot a few well placed pebbles at Pox, and watch the fun unfold. But Much couldn't help but project all kinds of "what ifs" on their mission, causing him untold anxiety. Robin thought the least he could do, was to distract Much's mind from his worries.

"Look at you!" Much complained. "I can't believe your manservant Thomas, if you can even call him that...'Slacker' would suit him better, I think you'll find!"

"He's very capable, Much," Robin sighed. "No one could ever measure up to you, my friend. But what about Thomas?"

"Him! I can't believe he let you out of the house, wearing that!"

"What's wrong with my clothes, Much?"

"I suppose you think yourself so good-looking, it doesn't matter to you what you put on your back! Unbelievable! I should have thought, after wearing that day after day in the forest, you'd never want to see it again! I know I don't! Look at all those places I stitched it up, after you tore it! Did Marian see what you were wearing?"

"Marian's taking a nap. At least, she was when I left."

"I knew it! I knew she wouldn't have let you set foot outside Locksley, dressed in tatters!"

"I wore this because it makes me invisible, Much," Robin explained. "It worked all those years we were outlaws."

"Please! You just like living dangerously! Oh, yes you do! Don't try to deny it!"

"Shh! Get back! If I'm not mistaken, I hear the king approaching!"

Robin's hearing had not failed him. Within moments, King John appeared on Pox, accompanied by Queen Isabella and several guards, all on horseback.

"Remind me again," Much whispered, staring at the queen, "why we can't aim a few pebbles at her?"

Silently chuckling, Robin winked at Much, then loaded a pebble on the slingshot and let it fly. The pebble struck Pox's back right haunch, causing the horse to neigh and bolt.

"Whoa!" King John shrieked, almost losing his seat. Regaining control of his horse, his face flushed angrily. "What happened here?" he cried out in fury.

Immediately, Isabella suspected Robin to be behind Pox's unusual behavior. "Search for a blunt arrow," she ordered the guards. "There must be one nearby!"

"My dear!" the king whined. "Do you suspect foul play?"

"I'm sure Hood's behind this, my king," she answered. "It reeks of him!"

"No arrows, Your Majesties," the sergeant reported.

"There! You see," King John told his wife. "There's nothing to fear, my pet! Something merely spooked this horse. Probably a toad in the road, or some such-AH!"

Unseen, Robin loosed a second pebble, hitting Pox and causing him to rear up, spilling the king onto the ground.

This time, King John was so enraged, when his sergeant dismounted to help him rise, he seized the guard's sword and strode toward the horse.

"How dare you?" he shrieked. "I'll teach you to unseat my royal buttocks!"

Pox screamed a neigh, as a crimson river streamed from his underbelly, followed by slimy grey entrails spilling into the dirt. Robin and Much watched, horrified, as the dying horse's knees buckled, making him drop and then fall onto his side, covered in his own blood and gore.

Laughing merrily, the king handed his sergeant back his bloody sword. "I love it when they scream," King John chortled. "Such a high pitched, nasal sound! Now, you!" he ordered a guard. "Dismount! I'll ride your horse back to Nottingham!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," the unhappy guard agreed. "I am honored to serve Your Majesty's most regal person."

"What should they do with the beast?" Isabella asked, wrinkling her pretty nose with distaste. "Bury it?"

"Whatever for?" her husband answered. "It's perfectly good meat! If the peasants are hungry, let them dine! After all, that's what my brother's soldiers feasted on in the Holy Land, didn't you, Locksley?" he asked, lifting his voice. "Anytime a horse fell beneath you and your fellow crusaders, you ate it, didn't you?"

Laughing gleefully once more, King John smirked, "He doesn't answer! Playing coy, Locklsey, are you? I know you're hiding somewhere in those trees! But never mind! How will your horse-loving wife take it, when you tell her her precious gift was slain, all due to your schoolboy tricks? Pity I can't be there to witness her dismay!"

Joined in laughter by Isabella, King John flung himself upon his guard's horse and led the way back toward Nottingham, leaving Robin and Much alone with Pox's carcass.

"Robin, what do we do?" Much asked. "Ugh! I hate the king! He is revolting!"

Robin's eyes were wide with shock, guilt, and grief. "We need to bury Pox, Much," he answered solemnly. Dropping onto his haunches beside the horse's dead body, Robin breathed, "I am so sorry. I never meant..."

"I'll find a shovel," Much offered.

"I promised Daniel I wouldn't hurt him," Robin realized, staring up at Much. "What am I going to tell Marian?"


	73. Chapter 73

Standing in the doorway of Ellen's nursery, Robin silently watched his wife and child, his heart mixed with love and sorrow. The picture he was witnessing was so pure and lovely, as far from the news he needed to tell Marian as Heaven was from Hell.

Ellen, perched upon her mother's lap, was completely engrossed in the richly illustrated book Marian was reading to her. Yet Marian wasn't only reading. She was reacting with Ellen to the story, living it through her child's eyes, to excite and teach her a love of literature and adventure.

"Where's the cat?" Marian asked her wide-eyed daughter, as they both studied an illustration. "Do you see him?"

"There!" Ellen pointed. "Peek a boo, kitty!"

"Peek a boo!" Turning the page, Marian sensed Robin's presence in the room and looked up.

The smile she gave him turned amused and questioning when she noticed him wearing his outlaw clothes, and then faded completely when she saw how dirty and unhappy he looked.

"Robin?" she asked, concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Daddy!"

Ellen slid tummy down off Marian's lap and toddled to her father, who scooped her up in his arms and forced a smile, just for her.

He didn't speak, only smiled adoringly at both Ellen and Marian. Yet there was sadness in his eyes as well, and Marian knew he needed to unburden himself without their daughter present.

"Daddy and I need to talk," she told Ellen. "Would you like to help Sarah in the kitchen? Jess is there."

"Jess!" Ellen cried excitedly, for the young daughter of one of Locksley Manor's cooks loved playing with the toddler.

After Robin and Marian had delivered their daughter to Sarah and Jess's care, they enclosed themselves in Robin's study.

"Now, Robin," Marian said intently, looking deeply into his eyes, "What happened?"

His guilt-ridden face, so handsome yet sad, nearly broke her heart as he told her, "I am so sorry, my love. Pox is dead."

"Dead?" she repeated hollowly, not yet grasping the news.

"The king killed him, but it's my fault. I'm sorry, Marian. I never meant to hurt him."

_That beautiful, proud animal...dead. _Marian hadn't had time to develop any kind of a bond between herself and the horse, but dead?

Yet it was the sight of Robin, smeared with dirt and sweat, dressed in tatters, wanting so hard for his story not to hurt her, that moved her nearly to tears. Recalling in the past the many times he'd refrained from "I told you so's" when she'd been wrong, choosing instead to gather her in his arms to comfort her, she could do no less for him now. Closing the space between them, she reached for him and drew him close, holding him against her beating heart, stroking his hair and telling him that everything would be alright.

...

"And so," King John announced to his assembled banqueting guests that night at Nottingham Castle's Great Hall, "I unsheathed the nearest sword I could find, slicing it through the underbelly of my steed. You should have seen what gushed out! Not only a stream of blood, but his intestines, like a string of sausages in a butcher shop! Oh! It was such sport! And all the while, we suspected Locksley must have been somewhere close, watching! Probably perched up in the treetops, like a robin in his nest!"

Isabella was frankly bored with hearing the story again. Bored and restless, and unhappy at not being able to gloat over the deed in Robin's handsome face.

"Where is Locksley?" she asked, petulantly. "Shouldn't he, as the shire's premier noble, be here tonight, feasting with us?"

"I don't want him here," her husband whined. "Not unless he brings his luscious wife with him."

"The one who's growing fatter, as we speak? The one who chopped off her hair?"

"Jealousy doesn't become you, my dear," the king warned, threateningly. "You would be wise to close your eyes to my trifling, as your better did before you."

Isabella bit her lip, glowering with hidden rage. When a wine steward approached to refill His Majesty's chalice, she smiled and said, "Allow me. I do so adore serving my king."

When she was certain no one could see, she lifted back the jewel on one of her hinged rings, and emptied its contents into the king's wine.

_Just enough to give you excruciating cramps, you bastard, _she thought, pleased with herself. _No one will be the wiser, when we blame it on the surfeit of eels you've been downing._

"Wait!" the king cried, just before putting the chalice to his lips. "Where's my food taster? It wouldn't do, for England's King to be poisoned, before his queen presents him with a royal heir! When are you going to get busy and do your part, anyway?" he pouted toward his wife.

Isabella didn't answer, growing anxious as the food taster gasped and sputtered and gripped his sides as he suffered spasms of agony.

"Poison!" the king shouted, rising to his feet. "God's Blood, someone seeks to poison his king!"

The Great Hall was abuzz with the story, everyone feigning distress over the king's near mishap.

"That's it!" King John whined, paralyzed with fear and paranoia. "I need protection! Someone, fetch Locksley!"

"Locksley?" his queen cried. "Sire, you cannot be serious!"

"Of course I'm serious!" he shrieked. "As much as I detest the man, he's the only one in my kingdom who can save me, when enemies assail me from every side!"

"But, my king-"

"Shut up, Hag!" he shouted. "Locksley protected my brother Richard, did he not? If he'd been by his side in France when we paid that peasant to shoot the poisoned arrow that struck the Lionheart down, Richard would have, no doubt, miraculously survived!" Jumping up and down with his hands balled into fists, the king screamed, "I want Locksley! I want Locksley!"

"Don't we all?" Isabella whispered slyly to a startled Annora Fitzhugh at the banquet table.


	74. Chapter 74

"And then," Robin told his sleepy eyed daughter in a tender, caressing voice, tucking her into her cradle, "the beautiful princess punched the evil traitor right in his big, ugly, hawk nose and ran from the altar, her lace wedding veil trailing out behind her, and leaped on the back of the handsome prince's horse, who had ridden to save her, just in the nick of time. Together, they saved the kingdom, got married, had a lovely little princess, and another one on the way, and lived happily ever after. Goodnight, Boo."

"You're funny," Marian teased him, rolling her eyes.

"Glad you liked my story!" he grinned. "The best ones always have an inch of truth, you know."

"I wouldn't have gone to the altar, if you'd been more forthcoming. I wouldn't have even stepped inside the church."

"Better late than never?" he asked, kissing her.

Ellen was already asleep before the kiss ended, yet it was cut short by the sound of horses in the yard, then stomping feet and raised voices downstairs in the hall.

"What's happening?" Marian asked, alarmed.

Not bothering to answer, Robin dashed to their room where he grabbed his bow and quiver before reappearing on the upstairs landing.

"Pickens," Robin called warningly down to King John's Captain, "I assume you didn't ride all the way to Locksley to bully my steward. At least, I hope you didn't." In a kinder, gentler voice, he added, "You're free to go, Thornton, after Pickens apologizes to you."

"Very good, Master," Thornton said.

By this time, Marian had joined her husband on the landing, reminding Robin how much he wanted a lock installed on the outside of their bedchamber, and their window sealed shut.

When no apology came, Robin quickly descended the staircase, resigning himself that Marian was trailing his footsteps.

Standing nose to nose with Pickens, Robin ordered, "Apologize, now! I will not allow my servants bullied."

"I'm sorry," Pickens was forced to say, nearly spitting out the words at the old man who'd so faithfully served Robin's family for so many years.

"Not very civil, Pickens," Robin smirked, angrily. "Say it again, as if you mean it."

"Why have you come?" Marian asked the Captain of the king's soldiers, after signalling to Thornton that he should go.

"Lady Locksley," Pickens replied, bowing. Smitten by the Countess of Huntington's kindness and beauty, Pickens' attitude changed to one of respect, approaching reverence. "Forgive the intrusion. His Majesty commanded us to come to Your Ladyship's home, and retrieve your lord husband."

"My husband is innocent," Marian protested, fearing the worst.

"We are not arresting him, Your Ladyship, merely summoning him, to serve His Majesty."

"Serve him? How?"

"The King was nearly poisoned at dinner tonight. He fears for his life, and commands Locksley's presence, to protect him."

"Wouldn't a food tester serve the king's needs, better than my husband?"

"I do not try to understand His Majesty's orders, Your Ladyship. I seek only to fulfill them."

"Of course, I'll come," Robin spoke, stepping forward. "Give me a moment to say goodnight to my wife, gentlemen."

The soldiers agreed by looking down, giving Robin the opportunity to take Marian's arm and lead her several paces away.

"It's alright," he tried to soothe her, smiling lovingly into her anxious eyes. "I'll stand guard over the king tonight. With any luck, I'll be back in time to kiss you good morning."

"Kiss me goodnight, first," she instructed, which he wholeheartedly obeyed.

"It was Isabella, I'm sure of it," Marian whispered into his ear. "Watch out for her, Robin. If she's so bold as to poison her own husband-"

"Don't worry, my love. Unfortunately, I know all about her boldness. Sorry," he added quickly, when she shot him an indignant look. "I only meant-"

"I know. Goodnight, Robin. Be careful."

"Sleep well, my love."

Another kiss was interrupted by the sound of Pickens deliberately clearing his throat, and Robin took his sword and sword belt from his manservant Thomas, strapped them on, and led the way out of his house, to mount his horse and ride to Nottingham.

King John was the last man he would ever choose to protect, but love and loyalty to his country made Robin willingly accept his duty, and put aside his personal feelings. John was his crowned King, and therefore, Robin owed him his allegiance and protection, no matter how despicable he found the man. Or, for that matter, his queen.

...

Anxiously waiting for Locksley to arrive, the king paced, jumping at any little sound.

Isabella watched her husband with wry amusement, though she hid it well.

"My king," she cooed, "I have no objection to you summoning Locksley. But tell me, I beg you, this doesn't stop the little games we've been planning to play on his wife and child, does it?"

"I almost died, and you speak of games?" The king's face grew purple with rage, and his lips tightened in a hideous, threatening scowl.

"Surely we can still enjoy our little amusement, making Locksley suffer by hurting those he cares about?" Isabella stubbornly persisted.

"Not while he's watching over me, you conniving harridan! I don't want anything to distract him. It could mean my royal demise! And so, if I should hear one word of you plotting to harm the exquisite, lovely Miriam, I will subject you to a punishment that will make whatever you've done to her look like a picnic! Do I make myself clear?"

"Very well, my king," Isabella sneered, bowing and leaving the chamber.

Dismissing her attendants who had followed her from the room, Isabella sought out Annora Fitzhugh, the chancellor's foolish, young wife. It wasn't long before she found her, standing alone on the battlements, staring at the stars.

"Mistress Fitzhugh," Isabella said, feigning welcoming warmth and friendship. "Just the person I wanted to see! Tell me, my dear, why you are so discontent? Isn't love just awful, sometimes?"

"I love no one. Not anymore, Your Majesty," Annora insisted, sniffling.

"Come, I know better! You don't need to lie to me! Don't forget, I once loved him, too, you know!"

"He's...he's just so..."

"Yes, he is, isn't he? Pity he's married to...well, you've seen her. And you, dear Mistress Fitzhugh, used to getting everything you've ever wanted! And you would again, you know, if only she weren't in the picture."

"What are you saying?" Annora asked, frightened.

"Nothing much. I'm certainly not suggesting murder, oh, no! Only...only a mild inconvenience, to punish her for being so cold and proud to you, sweet Annora."

"I would like that," Annora said, rapidly blinking her eyes.

"I thought you might," Isabella said slyly. "Here's what you do."

"Me? I thought...I thought Your Majesty was going to punish Lady Locksley!"

"Oh, I am! But I thought it would be more fun, if we did it together! It won't harm her, only hurt her just the wee, littlest bit. A few drops of this, in her drink, and she'll be sorry she didn't give you the respect due you, as the Chancellor's wife!"

"Your Majesty, I couldn't!"

"No? Even when it's all her fault, that Robin doesn't love you anymore, even though you know your twin souls belong together?"

"I could never poison anyone, Your Majesty!"

"Poison?" Isabella repeated, innocently. "Of course not, my dear! This isn't poison! Just some mild herbs, to loosen her bowels a bit. Come, admit it. We'd both enjoy seeing Lady Locksley humiliated, having to spend hours on the privy! Think how amusing it would be! And no one, I swear, will know our little secret!"

Annora bit her lips, contemplating the queen's words. "It would be satisfying," she agreed. Suddenly, her face flushed with nervous pleasure. "Oh, look!" she cried, staring at Robin as he wove his way through the castle's outer bailey. "There he is!"

"Yes," Isabella echoed, hungrily. "There he is, indeed."


	75. Chapter 75

Annora Fitzhugh fidgeted nervously, twisting Queen Isabella's ring back and forth on her finger while she struggled with her conscience, trying to decide whether to unclasp the ring's stone and empty the white powder into Lady Locksley's milk.

As the queen had pointed out, it would be amusing to watch the perfect lady have to rush to the privy, suffering from "the runs." She deserved it, after all, for being so superior, having everything Annora wanted. And yet, actually causing her discomfort, by deliberately pouring poison into her milk, was a step Annora wasn't sure she was willing to commit.

"Oh, Robin," Annora sighed, standing alone in Locksley Manor's hall, her eyes locked on a cup of milk on the dining table, "I know you really love me! You're just too noble to act on your feelings!"

Memories of the first time she'd met Robin, when he had been disguised as a monk at her husband's party, sent unfulfilled yearnings through her, making her miserable and restless. No man's eyes had ever looked so deeply into her before. And what eyes they were, not to mention all his other manly charms!

Wanting him decided her. Making certain no one was watching, Annora unclasped the ring's stone and emptied the powder hidden within into Lady Locksley's milk.

By the time Marian appeared, Annora's pounding heart had almost settled back into its regular rhythms.

"Mistress Fitzhugh!" Marian barely hid her displeasure at finding the chancellor's wife at her table, after returning home with her small daughter from paying a visit to a frail, elderly widow in her village.

Disappointment in finding that her husband had not yet returned from protecting the king added to Marian's displeasure. Nonetheless, she graciously invited her unexpected guest to join her and Ellen at their midmorning snack.

"Would you care to join us?" she asked, politely. "Ellen and I usually have a small snack about this time. There's only milk, bread, and fruit, but it's good, isn't it, Ellie?"

"Daddy?" Ellen asked, looking all around.

"He'll be home soon, Precious. My husband was called away to Nottingham last night," Marian explained, when Annora didn't speak.

"I know," Annora finally spoke up, in a tone indicating she resented Lady Locksley daring to know something about Robin she already knew.

Marian couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Please, join us," she repeated, trying to appear patient, when she didn't feel so. "I've been ordered to drink milk every morning. It's said to be good for the baby."

Annora jealously sucked in her breath, glad that she'd finally summoned the courage to do as the queen had advised, by treating Lady Locksley's milk. "Don't let me stop you," she said, beginning to giggle as she anticipated the milk's effect. "I don't care for anything, but I'll sit with you, while you eat and drink."

The situation was awkward, but Marian was used to the chancellor's wife's lack of manners. Sitting at the table and helping her daughter to a snack, Marian tried to make pleasant conversation, fulfilling her duty as lady of the manor.

"Ellen and I just paid a visit to the Widow Tannerson, in our village," she began. "She's a kind old woman, whose memory never fails to astonish me. Every time I see her, she tells me something new about my husband's boyhood."

"Aren't you going to drink your milk?" Annora asked, clearly not listening.

"Thank you, I will. I just don't want to be rude."

It felt even more awkward to drink, with Annora's eyes watching her so carefully. But, like Ellen, Marian was thirsty, and Matilda had ordered her to drink milk every morning. Slowly, she sipped from her cup, smiling at her adorable little girl.

Before she'd even finished her milk, Marian began to feel strange, with jabbing pains in her belly. The pains quickly grew in intensity, becoming agonizing spasms, as the muscles in her stomach cramped.

Annora watched, satisfaction giving way to guilt, as the color drained from Marian's face and she doubled over in pain.

"Don't you need to go to the privy?" Annora asked, anxiously.

"Tell Thornton to fetch Djaq," Marian whimpered, her breathing labored. "Please, take Ellie to her nurse."

As the pain intensified, fear gripped Marian's heart. "Robin!" she wanted to scream, longing for her husband as she began to panic, fearing the worst. "Please, Lord," she silently prayed, "don't let my baby die! Please!"

She was far too distraught to notice Annora not moving, staring at her with guilt struck eyes. And then, as another spasm of pain racked her body, Marian felt what she most dreaded, a warm wet gush flow between her legs.

Outside in the yard, Robin, returning home at last, leaped from his horse and ran into his house, when he heard his wife's heart rending cry.


	76. Chapter 76

In his hurry to reach Marian, Robin almost pushed Annora out of his way. Dropping down beside his wife, who sat crouched over, clutching her sides, Robin gathered their child in one arm to comfort away her bewildered tears while desperately striving to access Marian's condition.

"Thornton!" Robin called out, trusting his steward to summon the rest of the servants. The faithful old man appeared immediately.

"Take Ellen to Nurse Mattie," Robin ordered, handing his daughter to a startled Annora, after assuring the frightened child her Mama would be alright. To Thornton, he commanded, "Tell Thomas to take my horse and fetch Matilda. He's till saddled in the yard. In the meantime, send Daniel to bring Djaq. Now!"

"Robin, I'm sorry," Marian whimpered, weak from pain and a cold grip of fear in the pit of her stomach.

"Shh," he soothed lovingly, masking his own fear. "You're going to be fine, my love."

"I'm...I'm bleeding," Marian told him, before another spasm of pain attacked her.

"Robin, I-" Annora tried to interrupt, not wanting to confess, yet wrapped up in her own guilt for what she'd done.

Robin looked up at her, not bothering to hide his annoyance. "Bridget," he said, thankfully spying Thornton's daughter stepping into the room. "Could you please take Ellen upstairs, to her nursery?"

"Of course, Master Robin," the young woman complied, possessively grabbing the child away from Annora.

Mary brought a basin of cool water and a clean cloth to the table, which Robin used to gently dab on Marian's face and neck.

"Hold on, my love," he beseeched her. "Help is coming."

"I need to...lie down." Easing herself from her chair, Marian tried to lie down on the floor of their hall. But Robin couldn't allow that. Swooping her up in his arms, he carried her upstairs, and layed her gently on their bed.

"Are you cold? What can I bring you, Marian?" he asked, failing to hide his overwhelming concern for her.

"Bring me Matilda!" she cried out, frightened and frustrated.

"She's already on her way," he assured her, reminded of his helplessness to stop her pain, when Gisbourne had stabbed her on the sands of Acre.

"Robin, I'm frightened," Marian confessed quietly. "I don't want another baby of ours to die. Is it because I rode, that time? I've tried to be so careful, and do everything right."

"Shh! It's alright. You didn't cause this, Marian. You've done nothing wrong."

"But I'm supposed to be on bedrest! Matilda said-"

"Shh!"

"Don't shush me! You know it's true."

"No, it's not. You were only supposed to stay in bed until you recovered. You were fine, my love. You didn't cause this. These things just happen."

"I don't want it to! I don't our baby to die!"

"Shh. Rest. Our child is not going to die."

"How do you know?"

"Trust me, my love."

"I'd rather trust God."

"Let's both trust Him, alright?"

While their loving argument had been taking place, Robin had climbed into bed with Marian, and was sitting up beside her, holding her and stroking her hair, while she rested her cheek over his heart. In spite of her seeming resistance to her husband's attempts to soothe her, Marian did feel stronger and calmer in his arms.

"I think the bleeding's stopped," she said, hope beginning to dawn as her pains lessened.

"Prayer works," Robin gently smiled, allowing himself some degree of relief.

A soft knock on their door made Robin leap up to answer it, certain that Djaq had arrived. But it wasn't Djaq. Robin pulled open the door to find Annora Fitzhugh, standing on swaying feet, her face ashen.

"Is she alright?" she asked, weakly. "I didn't mean to...I'm sorry. Robin, forgive me. It was the queen who gave me the powder, and told me to..."

Robin barely heard her, so great was his frustration at finding her instead of Djaq. But her words planted themselves somewhere in his mind, to be pulled out later, once he was sure Marian was out of danger.

At last, Djaq was brought to Marian's side, where she set to work making her comfortable and secure, until Matilda could arrive.


	77. Chapter 77

"You don't have to stay with me, you know," Marian told Robin softly, lying in his arms on their bed.

Matilda had come and gone, prescribing a week of strict bed rest and absolutely no more horseback riding or "marital activity" until after the baby was born. But her orders didn't stop the couple from enjoying an intimate conversation accompanied by a series of soft, gentle kisses.

"You wound me, Marian," Robin teased her. "I can see right through your scheme to get rid of me."

More kisses proved he was wrong, as she silently thanked him for staying.

They'd definitely had a scare, certain she'd almost lost the baby, and now that all seemed well, they clung together in thankfulness tempered with concern.

"Surely you have things to do," she told him. "I'm a nuisance."

"Yes, you are."

That exchange took them back to the time they'd said those words before, when he'd been an outlaw and she'd been wounded by Gisbourne, lying in pain in the cave. Happy at how far their relationship had grown since then, now that they truly belonged to one another, she stopped insisting he go and urged him to stay with soft, tender, loving kisses.

The last thing she heard before drifting off to sleep was Robin's voice, softly whispering, "I love you, you know, Wren." With a loving sigh, he added, "My wife."

...

With Marian sleeping peacefully and Ellen reassured her Mama was fine, Robin could at last allow his mind to take in the jumbled excuses and apologies Annora Fitzhugh had tried to give him during the crisis. At the time he'd ignored her, finding her the true nuisance when all his attention and concern were focused on his ailing wife. But now, the words she had stammered came rushing to his mind.

"I'm sorry," Annora had said weakly, appearing stricken herself. "I didn't mean to truly hurt her. The queen said the powder would only..."

_Isabella! _So, it wasn't natural causes that had hurt Marian and nearly killed their baby; it was Isabella's poison! Robin was so enraged, he exploded into action. Leaping onto the back of his fastest horse, he steered him toward Nottingham at a furious gallop, consumed with demanding answers from the queen and her foolish young accomplice.

...

Expecting Robin to suspect her crime sooner or later, Isabella made certain she was heavily guarded and inaccessible to the handsome Earl of Huntington until she felt ready to face him. Preferably she'd be facing him while on her back, under his passionate, pounding thrusts, or perhaps straddling him while he lay helplessly panting under her skillful maneuverings, though she recognized her dream was impossibly futile, at least for now.

She underestimated, however, how clever Robin was at sneaking into the most inaccessible chambers of the castle. No overwhelming number of guards or thickness of walls could keep him out, if he wanted to enter.

His first order of business, however, was to visit Annora Fitzhugh, to make certain he'd understood her correctly.

Annora had taken to her bed again, fussed over by her faithful old nurse.

Ignoring all courtesies, Robin appeared unannounced in the chamber, startling both women.

"Forgive the interruption," he said with a terrible scowl. "I believe you were trying to tell me something, while my wife was ravaged with pain?"

"Leave us," Annora ordered her nurse. Sitting up in bed, hoping she looked pale and fascinating, Annora gulped and asked, "Is she alright?"

"No thanks to you, if I heard you correctly. What did you give my wife?"

The anger in his eyes frightened Annora so badly, she felt compelled to lie to him. "Nothing. Nothing at all," she replied, weakly.

In an instant, Robin was standing over her, demanding the truth. "You said something about the queen, telling you to give my wife some powder. What was it, Annora? What did you do?"

Sobbing as she slid deeper under her bed covers, Annora confessed, "I didn't mean to hurt her! Believe me, Robin! I'm not a bad woman! I only thought it would be funny, to loosen her bowels, and make her have to sit on the privy all day!"

Robin didn't speak as he paced like a caged tiger through her room. He felt so furious, he would have liked to put his hands on her throat and squeeze the life out of her. But he'd never lay a finger to hurt a woman, no matter how vile her crime.

"Funny?" he snarled, when he could speak again. "Funny to give my wife a foreign substance, putting her life and the life of our unborn child at risk? You're wrong, Annora. You are not only a bad woman, you're evil and treacherous to the core."

"I'm not! The queen is, yes! But my only mistake was being led by her. I won't do it any more, Robin. Please, forgive me. I couldn't live, if you hated me!"

Stopping his pacing, Robin stood glaring upon the weak and helpless woman. "You're the real poison," he told her angrily. "You're what's wrong with England."

"What?" she squeaked, blinking back tears.

"You haven't a noble thought in your mind. You blindly follow those who are evil, all because you want to satisfy whatever fleeting desire pops into your head. You tried to take revenge on my wife, who'd never done a thing to hurt you, just because I take no interest in you. Why should I? You're not worth the dirt under the soles of her shoes!" Pointing a finger accusingly, he continued, "You disgust me, with your empty headed selfishness. How dare you even think about poisoning my wife? You should be made to drink the same poison yourself, and suffer the same way you made her suffer."

Tears flowed down Annnora's cheeks as she cringed under his accusatory words. Hope died, as she realized he would never love her.

"I'm not evil," she whimpered softly. "Why can't you love me, as you did when we first met?"

"I never loved you," he snarled. "I used you, to gather information about your husband. Do you really think I'd ever look twice at someone as worthless as you, when I'm married to the love of my life?"

The truth of his words hurt her worse than if he hadn't believed in chivalry, and had used his hands to strike her. Annora sobbed and whimpered in her bed, but Robin was unmoved by her tears.

She disgusted him. He couldn't stay another moment in her presence, especially with Isabella so close, awaiting his fury. Turning on his heel, he strode from the room, leaving Annora alone with her despair.

He didn't love her, she realized at last. He'd never loved her. Life was no longer worth living, and he was right. She deserved to drink the queen's poison. Or better yet, drown herself in Locksley Pond, so that he would find her body, floating lifelessly on top of water, when he stepped from his grand house the following morning. Annora swallowed, then began planning her suicide, tears still flowing, as she mourned her own death.


	78. Chapter 78

"Stay within earshot," Isabella ordered her frightened attendants, who trembled at the unexpected presence of Robin, Lord of Locksley, in Her Majesty's bedchamber, not to mention the dark look of danger in his eyes. "But don't listen too closely! Bring help immediately, should I call for it."

"Yes, Your Majesty," her ladies obeyed, dropping curtseys before scurrying from the sumptuous chambers.

"Well, Robin!" Isabella greeted him, her sly smile dripping with sexual allure. "Another secret visit to my bedchamber? You just can't stay away, can you?"

"Save your act, Isabella," Robin ordered. "I want to know, why you poisoned my wife."

Isabella's laughter was like the tinkling of bells. "Poisoned her?" she repeated, provocatively removing hairpins from her thick, glossy hair and shaking it loose. "Now, how could I have done that? I haven't been anywhere near your precious wife, and you know it. I haven't even been near _you_, though we can quickly change that, can't we? But not too quickly! I'd like to savor you, for once, rather than blink my eyes and find you've finished."

"You used Mistress Fitzhugh to give my wife poison, and you will be made to pay!"

"Is that the story that foolish, love struck chit is selling?" Isabella asked, climbing on top of her bed with a smouldering, beckoning look. "And you believe her? Well, no one else will! She's already proved herself to be a beastly little liar. After all, she claimed you raped her, remember?"

"Your husband will believe me, when I prove you used the same poison on my wife, you tried to give him!"

"John...believe you? Over me?" She laughed again. "Now, Robin, you've forgotten how very persuasive I can be, when it comes to men. I could, of course, remind you. You know you want it. You burn for me."

"You disgust me," he snarled. "Besides, you're rubbish at it."

He didn't like sinking to her immature, disgusting level, but he knew his accusation would anger her, and he wanted to make her suffer. "I told your brother you're a rubbish kisser, and I meant it," he continued. "You're even worse in bed, though you ought to be better, with all the practice you get."

His words struck their desired blow. Isabella sat up in bed, furious at his insult. "Guards!" she shrieked, almost in his ear.

Robin cringed, then shouted, "Bring them! I'll go straight to the king, and tell him everything!"

"He already knows about you and me," Isabella sneered back. "In fact, it excites him, in a strange, perverted sort of way. Not that he shares Sheriff Vaisey's inclinations. It's more a matter of rivalry. If he only knew how unsatisfying you are as a lover, he wouldn't try so hard!" Taking a deep breath, she raised her voice and shrieked again, "Guards!"

"I wasn't talking about my mistake, ever having anything to do with you," Robin bit back. "I was talking about what you've done now. You're finished, Isabella! What do you think King John will do, when he finds out it was you who tried to poison him?"

"He'll never believe you!" Isabella shrieked.

"Care to find out?" Robin asked, greeting the guards with a triumphant smile. "Take me to His Majesty," he told them, confusing them by willingly surrendering to their unsheathed swords.

...

Unfortunately, his interview with the king would have to wait, for King John was in bed with a kitchen wench, and had commanded his sentries, under pain of death, to admit no one into his "royal" presence.

Returning home to Locksley, Robin took the stairs two at a time, to check up on Marian.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, leaning against the doorway of their room.

"Better, now that you're home," she answered, with a bright, welcoming smile.

Sitting up in bed, she held out her arms, and he ran to them, so vastly different was her invitation to the one he'd just received from the poisonous Isabella.

"I brought you a present," he said with a smile, after kicking off his boots and kissing her most tenderly.

"I must really be sick, for you to bring presents!" she teased. "But thank you. I could use something, to help me pass the time this week."

Smiling adoringly, Robin handed her a hand-held looking-glass, encased in silver. It was exquisite, a gift any other woman would be thrilled to receive. Knowing this, Marian tried to hide her disappointment.

"I know you'll be bored, lying in bed," Robin told her, taking her in his arms and lightly laying his hands across her expanding belly. "So, I thought to myself, what would I like to do, if I were bedridden, with nothing to do?"

Marian turned her face to look at him, lifting her brows in mock amusement. "You'd look at yourself, in a mirror?" she asked. "I know you think you're good looking, Robin, but-"

"No," he grinned, tapping her lightly on her nose. "I'd want to spend all my time, looking at you."

"Flatterer," she teased. "But no, you wouldn't. You'd shoot at targets, out the window. The mirror's lovely, by the way. Thank you."

"You're welcome. But I have another idea, to help you pass the time. How about we work at improving our chess game, this week?" he asked, grinning at her.

"Robin!" she warned, remembering how he'd once used chess as a euphemism for something far more exciting. "Matilda said, no more... Besides, we hardly need improvement, at least-"

"Don't worry," he snickered. "I really did mean chess, this time. What else can I do for you, Marian, short of bringing you a needle and thread? There's a reason I never encouraged you in mastering embroidery. You're dangerous, you know, with a needle in your hands."

"You deserved it," she smiled, proudly. " 'Kiss it better,' indeed!"

"I'd like to kiss you better now."

"Matilda said-"

"Kissing can't hurt."

It didn't, though it made them eager for much more.

"I'm sorry, we can't..." Marian told him.

"It's alright, my love. It isn't hard to resist you."

"WHAT?"

"I only mean," he said, snickering at the outraged expression on her face, "all I need to do is think of you, and our baby's safety, and I'll be happy to live like a monk, for as many months as it takes."

"Let's decide on names," she suggested, snuggling back against his chest. "But first, there is something you can bring me, to help the time pass faster. I'd like to help you, Robin, with your ledgers."

"Marian, that's very kind, but-"

"You know how frustrated you get, adding the figures. I could do it for you, much faster. I'd also like to read those heavy books of yours, detailing English law."

"You're amazing. Did you know that?"

"I should have learned to sew better, years ago. It would come in useful now. But since I didn't, I'd like to study."

"Study it is, then," Robin agreed, impressed. "In between taking care of Ellie, planning our manor's meals, and losing to me at chess, of course."

"Beating the pants off you, you mean," she corrected.

"Ah!" he laughed. "Matilda said...!"

"Beating the smirk off your face, then," Marian smiled.

"Good luck with that," Robin grinned, kissing her again.


	79. Chapter 79

It was one thing to weep quietly over the thought of drowning herself in Locksley Pond and having Robin discover her lovely, lifeless body floating face down in the water, and another thing to actually carry out the plan.

Annora wanted Robin to be sorry, to weep as she was weeping, to charge into the pond and pull her cold, limp body from the water, to hold it against him, all the while crying out to Heaven, "What have I done? The woman I truly love is gone! If only I'd known my heart sooner!" But the more she thought about it, the more she hesitated in actually carrying out her plan.

For one thing, the water in the pond was bound to be cold. And it wasn't a romantic enough spot. There were weeds growing in that murky pond. And how could she guarantee it would be Robin who found her, and not some ignorant peasant? Besides, didn't drowned bodies bloat, and maybe turn an odd shade of blue? She didn't want him to see her looking ugly!

"If only there was a way to die, that wasn't so hideous!" Annora wished.

Sobbing anew, she rose from her bed, reached for her lovely satin and lace robe, and tiptoed from her bedchamber, to walk the castle ramparts and gaze out toward Locksley, weeping and sniffling at her sad plight. "You are cruel, Robin Hood," she sobbed, thinking only the stars, and perhaps the Night Watch, could hear her. But she was wrong.

"How sad Love is!"

The all too familiar, sly voice of Queen Isabella made Annora jump.

"Your Majesty," she gasped, dropping a curtsey.

"Oh, come, my dear, you needn't be so formal, not with me. We are friends, you and I, united by our shared love for the same handsome outlaw, and of course, by our own little secret."

"He's not an outlaw anymore," Annora rose to defend him. "He's Earl of Huntington, and Lord of Locksley. He's...he's..."

"He's what? Devoted to his wife? Ha! She doesn't deserve him, does she?"

"I want to die! Everything's such a mess! I didn't think that poison you made me give her would hurt her, or the baby! I only thought it would make her-"

"_I_ made you give her? Don't insult me. You sound like my brother now, always blaming others for his own evil deeds."

"But...you..."

Isabella lifted her lovely brows, waiting for the stupid girl to stammer out her accusations. Really, she was growing tired of manipulating such an ignorant fool! And to think, Robin meant to get to her, and trick her into testifying to John what had happened, implicating Isabella in the clever little diversion of trying to poison him as well as Marian!

And Robin could do it, too, Isabella realized. All he needed to do was flash his little imperfect teeth in one of his perfect smiles at the chit, and Mistress Annora Fitzhugh would spoil everything! Isabella wasn't about to let that happen!

"Look!" she cried, pointing off in the distance. "Is that Robin now?"

"Where?" Annora cried, excitedly.

A small struggle ensued, as Annora tried to get her footing after being pushed from behind. But the queen was too determined not to win. One final shove sent Annora over the battlements. She was too petrified even to scream.

"Ooh!" Isabella cringed, in good humor, when she heard the body hit the ground. "You mentioned you wanted to die. Wish granted!" Brushing off her hands, she pulled her black cloak more tightly around her, and disappeared before the Night Watch could discover her.

...

Morning dawned, and Robin lay blissfully in bed, gazing at Marian while she slept, grinning at the sound of her snores.

One final, explosive snore from her own mouth woke her, startling her and making Robin laugh.

"I didn't..." Marian begged, "Tell me I didn't make that sound!"

"Shh, it's alright," he soothed, gathering her tenderly in his arms. "It was nothing. Just another indication our baby is fine."

"It isn't fair, you know," Marian said, enjoying nestling against his warm, hard body. "Men ought to be made to suffer the same indignities, at least for a day!"

"Ahh, we're already rude enough, without-"

"Rude? Robin of Locksley, are you saying I'm rude?"

"I'm saying you're gorgeous. And I think you're amazing, carrying our child."

"Women do it every day, you know."

"Not my child! Seriously, Marian, every time I look at you, I'm awed."

"Matilda says it _is_ a miracle, for us."

What else could he say to that, but to kiss her?

"Robin," she sighed, content, even while wanting more, "we haven't talked about names."

"Good idea!" In spite of him boasting it wouldn't be hard to resist her, the silky warmth of her skin, her beauty, her scent, the deep love he felt pulsating in his heart and throughout his body, was going to make these next several months agony, if he wasn't careful. He wanted to protect her, and enjoy this blissful miracle with joyful anticipation, not be consumed with passion.

"Names!" he repeated. "Let's start with boys. Do you have your heart set on anything?"

"Anything but Much," she teased. Growing somewhat sad, she added, "Or Robin."

Sensing her change of mood, he bit back his own teasing comeback. "Marian, what's wrong?" he asked, brushing a lock of hair off her cheek.

"I'm sorry. It's just my condition again. It makes me emotional."

"It's alright. I never told you. My...my mother once said, 'Never be ashamed, you have a heart.' "

Marian's answering smile was small, and still a sad one. Yet she was moved, for Robin rarely spoke of his mother, whom he'd dearly loved, but had lost while a small child.

"Yet you hid your heart from me," she marveled. "Even after your mother's sage advice?"

"Did I?"

"You know you did."

"I hid my hurt. I wanted to appear strong, for you. I hope I didn't hide my love."

"We both did, but not any longer."

Another kiss dispelled most of their sudden sorrow. The sun was beginning to rise, and sounds of Locksley waking up reminded them how precious these moments were, alone together.

"Why not Robin?" he asked. "Not that I'd want any competiton, you know!"

She hesitated before admitting, "Don't scorn me, but I always thought the baby we lost, the one Gisbourne killed, was a boy. I've always thought of him as Robin."

Her husband was too moved to speak, wondering how deeply Marian, who felt partly responsible for that baby's death, still grieved. Holding her closer, he stroked her hair, and listened while she poured out her heart.

"I never expected him to do it," she confessed now, the words spilling out of her. "I thought I could handle him. And I could! But at that moment, when everything was falling into place, I didn't care anymore what side Guy chose, as long as he didn't try to harm the king. I saw him as you did, Robin, equally as evil as Vaisey, beyond redemption. It just felt so good, to finally be able to speak the truth, to admit to his face that I loved you! You can't imagine how deeply it hurt me to hurt you, Robin, when I told him I despised you, that I'd never marry you. Especially just after you'd saved me!"

The hurt of that moment when Robin had brought her the necklace was something neither one of them wanted to relive, any more than the memory of Gisbourne stabbing her. But the talk of baby names would have to wait. For the moment, the only remedy for sadness was to lose themselves in kisses and tender caresses.


	80. Chapter 80

It was surprising how much she could eat, after having been ill the day before.

Sitting up happily in bed, Marian was enjoying a hearty breakfast of ham, eggs, apples, and freshly baked bread. But she stopped in mid-bite when Robin entered their room.

Fresh from his bath, he swaggered in, clad in nothing but a towel draped around his waist.

"I thought I smelled something good," he boasted, sinking his teeth into the apple he'd swiped off Marian's plate.

"Give that back." The terseness in her tone surprised even her, as she found herself inexplicably tense, reacting to the sight of him in his delightful state of undress.

"You won't share?" he teased, impudently taking another bite before plopping down beside her on their bed. "I'll bring you another apple, my love."

Marian tried not to stare, but her eyes wouldn't obey. What was wrong with her, she wondered. It was ridiculous, the way she was feeling, in her condition.

"What's wrong, Marian?" Robin gently asked, noticing her odd behavior. Assuming she was frustrated from having to stay in bed all day, he offered, "If you'd like, I could carry you downstairs, and Mary could arrange some pillows on the-"

"Why don't you put some clothes on?" she huffed, no longer hungry, at least not for what was on her plate.

"Alright," Robin complied, rising from their bed. "I'll get dressed."

Without giving it a thought, he unself-consciously pulled the towel from around his waist, then tossed it carelessly over the back of a chair. A little high-pitched "Oh!" escaped Marian's lips.

"Sorry," Robin grinned, mistakenly thinking his wife's objection was caused by him not folding the towel properly. "Since you are cooped up here, the least I can do is keep the room looking nice. I'll ask Thomas to pick up after me, when I'm gone."

"I don't want Thomas charging in here!" Marian complained. "I don't want anyone!"

"Alright," Robin said calmly again, trying not to ruffle any more of her feathers.

"Much spoiled you," Marian barked at him, "if you can't even pick up after yourself."

"Agreed." The sheepish grin on Robin's face contrasted nicely with his powerful, perfectly toned body beneath it.

"Get dressed!" Marian ordered, more and more exasperated with every peek at him.

Without another word, Robin located his clothing and swiftly put it on, while Marian's unblinking eyes watched his every move.

"Your eggs are getting cold," Robin commented, since she hadn't taken a bite since he'd entered the room. "Want me to bring you some warm ones, with the apple I owe you?"

He looked incredibly sexy to Marian, fastening on his belt. With another huff, she picked up her bread and hurled it at him, hitting him squarely on his cheek.

"Marian?" Robin asked innocently, looking up. "What have I done to anger you?"

"I'm sorry," she apologized, still feeling incredibly tense. "It's not you. It's me. Just go, Robin, please. I promise to be nicer, when you return."

"I'll be in Nottingham," he told her. "Hopefully, it shouldn't take too long. Do you want Ellie?"

"Yes! Bring her, please." With her mind on other matters, Marian could finally relax, and found her appetite restored. "What are you planning to do?" she asked, taking a bite of cold eggs.

"You'll find out soon enough," he answered, smugly.

"Robin! I want to know. What are you up to?"

"Just a bit of truthful testimony," he told her. "With any luck, this could be the day our illustrious queen finally gets her comeuppance."

Marian's jaw dropped open, as her eyes grew wide. "Tell me everything," she begged, pushing aside her tray.

"It will have to wait, I'm afraid," Robin apologized. "I'm already late, it seems."

Rolling her eyes, Marian asked, "What else is new? You're always late, you know, Robin of Locksley."

"Not too late for a kiss goodbye, Lady Locksley?"

The warmth of her kiss surprised him, giving him a clue to her earlier, erratic behavior.

"I'll get Ellie," he breathed, shaking the fog from his brain her kiss had caused.

...

After collecting Much at Bonchurch, making him even later for his appointment with the king, Robin arrived in Nottingham.

"What is going on?" Much sputtered, coming upon a large group of somber faced nobles surrounding the twin thrones of the king and queen.

"Who died?" Robin asked Loughborough, taking in the situation at once, for King John and his wife were decked out in exaggerated mourning garments.

Robin's heart constricted for a moment, fearing it might be Queen Eleanor who had died. But the answer he received didn't make any sense to him.

"Just Fitzhugh's young wife," Loughborough explained.

"Wha-wha-wha...How?" Much, flabbergasted by the news, was just as shocked as Robin.

"Threw herself from the battlements last night. The king wants to question you, Locksley."

Robin's eyes widened, as his mind accepted what he'd been told. Boldly approaching the thrones, he made a cursory bow and demanded to know, "What happened to Mistress Fitzhugh, Your Majesty? I just heard she's...she's dead."

"The poor child!" the king sobbed. Turning instantly angry, he bellowed, "Yes, she's dead, and it's all your fault! Be warned, Locksley, you will pay!"

"His fault?" Much burst out, at Robin's side. "That is...that is not true! Robin didn't do anything!"

Even in his state of shock, Robin could detect the hard gleam of triumph in Isabella's sly, beautiful blue eyes.


	81. Chapter 81

"Shut up, Bonchurch!" King John ordered Much, all the while smirking triumphantly at Robin. "What's the matter, Locksley? Pudgy got your tongue?"

"I'm sorry to hear Mistress Fitzhugh is dead," Robin replied honestly. "Yet I'd like to hear what part you accuse me of playing in her tragic death."

"Oh, yes, by all means! We can't have the legendary name of Robin Hood tarnished now, can we?" the king giggled. Turning nasty, he shouted, "Well, too late, Locksley! After the people hear what you caused, they'll piss all over your legends."

"That is revolting!" Much couldn't help saying.

"Not as revolting as what Locksley did! Bring forth the witness!"

Isabella had no wish for Robin's returning accusations to be aired in such a public forum. Laying a jewel-bedecked hand on her husband's arm, she slyly suggested, "My king, wouldn't it be better if we were to convene to a more private place?"

"Why?" the king pouted. "I want everyone to know the evil things Locksley did!"

"But consider the element of surprise, my liege! If everyone present hears, it won't give us time to arrange the details to their most damaging effect! Besides, it wouldn't do for the nobles to listen to Locksley's answering false charges. You know how persuasive his silver tongue can be."

"Oh, you adorable girl! You think of everything, don't you? Very well then, Locksley, you will follow me to a more private chamber. Come!"

So saying, the king swept past Robin and Much, with Isabella at his heels. As she passed Robin, she smirkingly whispered up at him, "How do you like my mourning gown? Hideous, perhaps, but made of the finest Bruges satin. I never let anything touch my skin unless it's the finest cloth, or flesh."

"You pushed her, didn't you?" Robin accused, out loud.

"Stop!" the king ordered. "What did you say, Locksley?"

A terrified hush fell over the room, as everyone held their breath.

"Mistress Fitzhugh did not throw herself from the battlements," Robin told the stunned gathering. "The queen pushed her, to stop her from telling you the truth!"

More silence followed a collective gasp, broken by Isabella's tinkling laughter. "How terribly absurd," she mocked. "Me? Push her? You've lost it, Locksley! You dare accuse a helpless woman, to try and save your own skin?"

"It's better than committing murder," Robin snarled back, glaring at his former paramour. "And you, with your poisons and your mustard bombs, have never been helpless."

The king, delighted by the exchange, laughed merrily in amusement. "Oh, let's just have our little fun here! No need for privacy! You know how I crave an audience!" So saying, he returned to his throne and flung himself sideways onto its seat, hanging his legs over the armrest.

Furious, Isabella could barely hide her sneering lips and flashing eyes. "Very well, my king," she almost spat, sitting regally upon her own throne. "Let's all listen to Locksley's venomous lies!"

"I'm not the one who poisons," Robin answered. "You are."

All present knew it to be true, but nobody else had the courage to speak it aloud.

Seizing his chance, Robin made the accusation he had come to Nottingham expressly to make.

"Your Majesty, I enter grave charges against the queen. I have proof that she coerced Mistress Fitzhugh into poisoning my wife, using the same vile brew she herself poured in your wine."

"What proof?" Isabella sneered.

"Much?" Robin invited.

Much, who never could get completely used to not being Robin's servant, opened his knapsack and, one by one, pulled forth a variety of objects, beginning with one of his son's toy soldiers. "I know it's in here somewhere," he stated, nervously, rifling through the sack. "I distinctly remember putting it in here this morning, when you handed it to me! No! That's my comb! Eve likes me looking nice. Do you think my hair needs combing, Robin?"

"Much!"

"Oh! Sorry! Yes...I'll find it! Here it is! No, that's-"

"You see!" Isabella mocked. "He has no proof!"

"Here it is!" Much cried at last, pulling forth the cup that Marian had used to drink the poisoned milk, and holding it proudly aloft.

"An unwashed cup?" the king declared, in wry amusement. "That's your proof? Surely, Locksley, you can do better than that!"

"Any alchemist can tell you what this cup's residue contains. It's the same poison Isabella put in your own goblet, that made your taster ill. My wife suffered the same symptoms, but in her case, it almost killed our unborn child."

"Didn't it?" the king asked, disappointed. "Pity. Bored with Miriam growing fat. Bored with your accusations, too, and your so called proof!" Turning to his queen, he smiled and said, "Izzy wouldn't poison her Johnny, now, would she?"

"Of course not, my king! Don't I owe everything, to your royal beneficence? Locksley's only trying to distract us away from his crimes, by concocting such a ridiculous story! Why don't we listen to the testimony of your witness, yes, my magnificent king? And then, of course, we can go somewhere private, and I'll..."

He closed his eyes, his face leering in eager anticipation as he listened to her whispered plans.

"Yes! Of course!" he cried. "Bring forth the witness!"

The crowd parted to allow Annora's sobbing old nurse to shuffle forward. The king, growing more and more impatient at the slowness of her rheumatic steps, drummed his fingers on the arm of his throne. "Hurry up!" he whined. "Old people are so disgusting! Really! There ought to be a law, to protect my eyes and nose from their offensiveness!"

When the ancient, wheezing woman almost reached the area before the thrones, she lost her footing and stumbled. Immediately, Robin was there, carefully lifting her up by her arm and supporting her before she fell.

"Are you alright?" he asked, with kind concern.

In answer, the old woman spat in his face. "You're the one what done it!" she accused. "You're the one what made my poor lost lamb so miserable, she killed herself!"


	82. Chapter 82

Hearing her husband return home, Marian quickly wrapped the two small objects she'd been examining in a handkerchief, hiding them back in the drawer where she'd found them.

She knew Robin wouldn't mind her looking at his war medals, but all the same, she didn't want him catching her in the act. He was sensitive about his service, torn apart by guilt for some of war's atrocities he'd been forced to witness and commit, yet he was proud of his medals, too, bestowed upon him by King Richard, the Lionheart. And Marian, longing to share that part of his life she had no part of, was curious to know what he'd done to earn them, especially because he wouldn't talk about it.

Much, when questioned, had tried his best to satisfy her curiosity, but his accounts were less than adequate, peppered as they were with memory lapses and endless ramblings of weather reports and other unrelated topics.

"You look pretty," was Robin's first comment to her, when he entered their bedchamber.

"The mirror you gave me came in handy, after all," she told him, touching her hair she'd styled in a new fashion. "I fixed Ellie's, too."

Marian saw at once that Robin's eyes were wistful yet sad, looking at their daughter curled up asleep in the middle of her parents' bed.

"She's been wonderful company," Marian added, knowing Robin would be more likely to talk if she eased him into confessing what was obviously troubling him, rather than confronting him directly.

A law book lay open on their bed, and Robin stared at it with unblinking eyes, not really seeing it. Unable to wait any longer, Marian crossed to him and asked, "What happened, Robin?"

"She's dead, Marian," was his cryptic answer.

Marian caught her breath. "Isabella?" she asked, stunned.

Robin shook his head but said nothing.

"Who, then?"

At last, Robin's eyes met Marian's, his face the picture of guilt-ridden regret.

"Annora," he answered. "She killed herself, because of me."

As soon as Marian's initial surprise had passed, she sat upon their bed, pulling Robin down beside her. "Everything is a choice," she reminded him. "If she died by her own hands, it was her choice, Robin. You are not to blame."

"Her nurse disagrees," Robin admitted, thanking God for the beautiful, level-headed woman seated beside him. "She claims I bewitched Annora, led her on, then deserted her. She says I broke her heart."

"That's ridiculous! I know you, Robin. You may have more charm than the law ought to allow, as I believe Princess Johanna once put it, but you didn't lead her on. If Annora believed you loved her, even after you tried as kindly as you could to convince her you didn't, it was no one's fault but her own. It may be unChristian to speak ill of the dead, but the girl was a fool, Robin! You mustn't suffer a moment's grief over her."

The half-hearted smile he gave his wife showed his gratitude for her words, but he still was not convinced. "Do you remember how you used to chide me to 'grow up?' " he asked, sadly.

"I never meant it. I was just angry."

"You were right," he stated. "If I hadn't engaged in masquerading as a priest at her husband's party, she might still be alive. I'm a fool, Marian, playing tricks. Pox died because of my games, and now, Annora."

"You are a good man, Robin," Marian insisted. "Nothing can change that. You've always been clever, and your games and so-called tricks inspire others to follow you, to stand up to the evil that poisons England, with courage and good humor."

"Why did she do it?" he asked, in bewilderment. "I never meant to hurt her."

"She was wrong, not you," Marian told him, cradling his head in her arms. "And you didn't hurt her. She chose to make herself miserable over you. I didn't..."

"What?" he asked, lifting his head to meet her gaze, when words failed her.

Before answering, Marian took a deep, courageous breath. "I didn't harm myself, when you went to battle."

"I hurt you most of all," Robin realized. "I am so sorry, my love."

"We've been through this before. I only want to say, I might have done so, if I'd been more selfish."

"Not you, Marian! You couldn't!"

"I didn't. I wouldn't have done that, to my father."

"You were ill, though, I've heard. Your father made certain I knew how ill you were."

"And I might have continued, wasting away, if I hadn't chosen to help others. It was only after I began my...my service as the Nightwatchman, that I stopped feeling sorry for myself, and grew strong again."

Marian noticed that Robin was resting one hand lightly on their daughter's head, even as he reached his other to stroke her cheek. She leaned forward to receive his touch, like a flower reaching for the sun.

"You're incredible," he said, the look on his face revealing the fullness of his heart. "I don't deserve you."

"Stop it. You do. Anyway, you're stuck with me. I've gotten used to having you around."

"To mend the shutters, and scare away the mice?"

"Among other things." Sighing, Marian slid into his arms. "I'm sorry Annora killed herself," she told him. "It's horrible. But it's in no way your fault, alright?"

"I wish I could accept that," he told her, sadly kissing the top of her head.

Pounding hoofbeats followed by pounding fists beating on Locksley Manor's front door brought Robin to his feet, and awakened Ellen.

"I'll go see who it is," Robin told Marian.

Neither one realized their surprise visitor was none other than the Queen of England, Isabella of Gisbourne.


	83. Chapter 83

Despite feeling terrified, Isabella couldn't help hoping Robin wouldn't miss how stunningly beautiful she must look, with her dark, glossy hair loose in wild disarray, and her small bosom heaving over its temptingly low-cut bodice of deep red velvet.

His old servant had answered the door, but stepped discreetly aside to allow the handsome young Master to face her.

Robin's face was devoid of the challenging, proud smirk it frequently wore in his dealings with her. Instead, he simply looked angry.

"What do you want?" he snarled, impolitely. "Anointed queen or not, don't you know you're not welcome here?"

"I haven't come as your queen," Isabella panted, looking fearfully over her shoulder, "but as a helpless woman in distress, seeking your protection! Please, Robin, let me in! Save me!"

"Let her in." Marian's voice, cool and confident, floated down to them from the upstairs landing.

"Let me handle this, Marian," Robin ordered. "Go back to bed."

"I won't. I'm fine. I wouldn't be up, if I weren't. Let her in, Robin. She's putting on quite a show of fear. Aren't you the least bit curious to know why?"

"Not really."

"Help me, Robin!" Isabella cried. "You have no idea what he's done to me!"

"I assume you mean your husband, the king?" Robin sneered at her. "Whatever he's done, it can't be half what you deserve."

"You once told me you'd never turn your back on someone truly in need," Isabella persisted, breathlessly. "I beg you, take me in! Protect me from his cruelty! I swear to you, I need your protection!"

"You poisoned my wife, and you expect me to welcome you into our home?" Robin snarled. "Get out!"

"Poisoned me?" Marian repeated. "How?"

"Go back to bed, Marian," Robin ordered.

"I never poisoned her," Isabella lied. "I haven't been near her, in days!"

"Come in," Marian invited, her tone curt. "Come upstairs. It seems you have a lot of explaining to do, Your Majesty."

"Thank you!" Isabella cried, pushing her way past a startled Robin to climb the stairs to his and Marian's room.

Following Marian into the bedchamber, Isabella took one glance at Ellen, who was sitting on her parents' bed, quietly playing with her toy horse. "Such a lovely child," Isabella sighed, unable to hide a hint of underlying sarcasm.

"Get anywhere near her," Robin threatened, standing just inside the door frame, "and I will personally throw you out on your ear."

Ignoring him, Isabella sighed. "Lucky little girl," she said. "You have a father who's good to you! Your life won't be like mine, with every man who ought to have been your protector, delighting in hurting you! Slapping you, and selling you to a husband who-"

"Spare us your family history," Marian told her. "We've heard it all before."

"Your hearts are cold," Isabella accused.

"At least we have hearts," Robin snapped back, striding into his room to take his place by Marian's side.

"You break hearts," Isabella sneered. "Poor Annora!"

Marian turned flashing eyes on her "guest." "How dare you?" she asked.

Acting as if the exchange hadn't taken place, Isabella reverted back to her "damsel in distress" mode. "But my current husband is far and away the cruellest of the lot! After you left, Robin, and I was alone with him, he turned on me, punishing me most violently! He actually suspects there might be truth to that story you told, that I was responsible for putting poison in his wine!"

Detecting a shadow pass over Robin's face, Marian's temper began to flare. Picking up Ellen, Marian handed her to Robin, saying, "Take her out of here, dear."

"Isabella needs to go, not Ellie," Robin argued.

"Oh, she'll go, after I've spoken my mind," Marian insisted. "Please, take Ellie. I've waited a long time to have this discussion, and what I have to say won't be suitable for her ears."


	84. Chapter 84

Isabella of Gisbourne boldly studied the woman whom she considered her rival with a defiant, sneering glare.

Lady Locksley, nearly six years her junior, was the only woman whose beauty Isabella felt triumphed over her own. The lady's thick, dark, softly curling hair had been carefully coiffed in a becoming style, hiding the fact it had recently been hacked off. Her nearly flawless skin was creamy, appearing smooth and silky to the touch, with a small mole just beneath her lower lip and another just under her collarbone, as if to tease a man's senses. Bravery, intelligence, and character flashed out of beautiful clear blue eyes, fringed in thick dark lashes. In fact, the woman's entire heart-shaped face was doll-like in its perfect beauty, with its tiny seashell ears, soft red lips, and strong proud chin.

"What a silly little nose she has," Isabella gloated privately to herself, "so vastly inferior to my straight, elegant profile!"

Even with Marian's belly and hips rounded from pregnancy, Isabella felt especially threatened by the woman's strong, young body. The exquisite carving of her shoulders, the lovely gracefulness of her shapely arms, the plump fullness of her firm round breasts, all caused the Queen of England to gnash her teeth in a jealous rage and wish Marian dead.

"I wonder," Isabella began, just after Robin had complied with his wife's wishes by removing Ellen from the room, "just how often you think of my brother, when you're lying here in bed making love with Robin? Does it excite you to remember the times you secretly lay here with Guy?"

"I never!" Marian protested, shocked and embarrassed by the false allegation. "Not every woman is as free with her body as you are with yours."

"I disagree. Women hide their indiscretions, but that doesn't mean they don't engage in them, if they're beautiful enough to be desired. Preserve your good name behind your ladylike demeanor all you like, but you and I both know your little secret. You enjoyed having two strong handsome men heat up your bed and fight over you, while you weighed your options. It was only when you found yourself with child, that you were forced to make a choice. And in the presence of the godlike Richard, Coeur de Lion, who wouldn't finally choose Robin of Locksley over Guy of Gisbourne? After all, Richard was bound to triumph over Sheriff Vaisey! Richard, who'd never lost a battle! But I still ask myself, whose brat was it in your womb, that Guy killed? Or do you even know?"

"Get out," Marian ordered. "I wanted to speak with you, but just being around you is far more poisonous than any of your potions."

Isabella wandered slowly to the massive bed and began sensually running her fingers up and down the coverlet on Robin's side of the bed.

"Don't touch!" Marian snapped.

"The truth is always hard to stomach," Isabella slyly continued, "when we're so good at deceiving others. And you are good at it. Even Robin knows what an accomplished liar you are. Isn't that what made you such a good spy?"

"Why did you come here? To taunt me with your own lies? Or to torture my husband's conscience? Leave Robin alone. He already feels bad enough."

"Good. Poor Annora. He killed her, you know, just as surely as if he'd pushed her from the battlements."

"Are you sure it wasn't you who pushed her?"

Marian's accusation, a mere guess she hardly believed, wrought a change in Isabella. Immediately, the queen stopped stroking the bed, and turned like a tiger on her accuser.

"You'll never prove it!" she shrieked. "And I still mean to have your husband!"

"You pushed her?" Marian gasped. "Is that why you're running from the king?"

"No, you naïve, goody-goody toe shoes! You have no idea how inflicting pain can excite a treacherous man! My first husband, for all the agony he caused me, can't hold a candle to John! You know nothing! Has Robin ever branded your back with a hot iron grid, and forced you down, naked, on your hands and knees, so he can play chess on you?"

Marian, with all her hatred toward Isabella, couldn't believe what she'd heard. "Oh, you poor thing," she breathed, stepping forward to protectively fold Isabella in her arms. "We'll help you," she promised soothingly. "Don't be afraid."

Robin, stepping through the doorway, stopped in midstride when he spied the two women embracing. His eyes questioned Marian's, but he didn't see the look of evil triumph on Isabella's face.


	85. Chapter 85

"Marian?" Robin asked, watching his lovely wife attempting to comfort their enemy, Isabella of Gisbourne. "What are you doing?"

"I realize she can't stay here," Marian began explaining, only to be interrupted by Robin's emphatic, "Good!"

"Will you let me finish?" Marian demanded, tense from the resistance she was expecting from her husband, as well as her recent unpleasant interview with Isabella. "She can't stay here indefinitely," Marian clarified.

"She can't stay here at all! In fact, why don't we show her the door now, together?"

"Robin, no! We can't send her back to the castle, not after what she told me!"

Robin, folding his arms over his chest, struck a challenging, not-about-to-budge pose. "Alright then," he invited. "Let me decide. What lies did she tell you, Marian?"

Isabella, who'd been watching the argument as silent as a cat stalking its prey, eagerly wetted her lips while staring at Robin. _Oh, yes, he was delicious!_ Right then and there, she wanted to shove him backwards onto the bed, rip the clothes off him with her fingers and teeth, and just lap him up, like cream.

Of course, she had no choice but to resist her desires, for the time being, and bide her time.

"Her lies don't matter," Marian insisted, hotly. "The one truth that poured out of her does, and I can't tell it to you. Believe me, Robin, you don't want to know. All that matters is...we have to keep her safe."

"Her?" Robin laughed unpleasantly, under his breath. "I don't think so."

"We must! Where's your sense of chivalry?"

"She doesn't deserve chivalry! She's no damsel in distress, Marian, but a cold hearted killer, with her vials of poison, and the tricks she carries, tied up in her garters!"

"How do you know what she carries in her garters?" Marian couldn't help asking.

Despite wanting to play the victim, Isabella couldn't hide a self-satisfied smirk. How could she forget that warm, sunny day in the meadow, when she'd helped Robin put out the fire John had ordered set in the Locksley village church? A blister or two from passing heavy sloshing buckets filled with water, and a few smudges of soot on her face and neck, were small prices to pay for what followed! Acting the part she knew Robin wanted, she'd "generously" pressed her purse into his hand, after first retrieving it from her bare naked thigh, where she'd tied it by a garter that held no stocking in place.

He'd seen, of course. She made certain he'd seen. And the wicked smile that lit up his face confirmed her wish that Robin Hood wasn't always as pure, unselfish, and wholesome as the newly fallen snow.

He'd been drowning in grief, not having a clue his wife had survived the wound Isabella's brother Guy had given her, her stupid brother who couldn't do anything right! A slight resemblance to his "dead" wife, a touch of her perfume, the right words and charitable actions, had made Robin easy prey in his emotionally drained, weakened state. But it was the unmistakable invitation of her naked thigh that finally made him hers, for a few frantic, fevered moments in the meadow.

The guilt on his face when he next led her to his camp had been laughable, as well as the confused looks on the faces of his men. Isabella played her part, many parts really, trying to keep him, but he quickly sank back into his grief and disappointment.

But all that ended, when Marian returned. It was as if Robin himself had been reborn, so vibrant, happy, and alive he seemed, and he had no more use...none at all, for Isabella.

"I would appreciate you including me in your discussion," she said now, angry at how he always seemed to ignore her existence, whenever Marian was near.

To her surprise, Robin turned on her in fury. "Don't say a word," he threatened, pointing a finger in her face. "You dared poison my wife, then show your face here, expecting our protection?"

"Robin! Don't frighten her," Marian scolded, baffling her husband and playing right into Isabella's hands. "Don't cast her out! Lock her in a room if you must, before taking her to a place of safety, but don't deny her the protection she needs."

"What is wrong with you, Marian?" Robin demanded. "What did she say, to deceive you?"

"How dare you? There's nothing whatsoever wrong with me, as you put it! I'm only doing what you would do, if you knew the truth!"

Isabella watched, delighted, as Robin smirked and Marian fumed.

"What?" Marian asked, when he smugly laughed under his breath.

"It's your condition," Robin unwisely answered. "It has to be. You'd never fall prey to her lies, if I hadn't first gotten you-"

"How dare you?" she asked again. "It isn't my so-called condition! I only want to help her, the way I wanted to help..."

Robin's eyes narrowed, as the jealous rage he felt toward Guy of Gisbourne was rekindled.


	86. Chapter 86

"Robin, what are you doing?" Marian asked, almost echoing her husband's recent question to her.

Robin, having heard enough, had grabbed Isabella by her elbow and was dragging her across the room of his and Marian's bedchamber, toward the door.

"Only following your advice," he smirked, unpleasantly. "I'm locking this viper in a room, so she can't use her fangs on you, or on Ellie."

Isabella felt torn between being thrilled by Robin manhandling her, and furious at him for daring to lay his hands on her. "My, my, Robin," she chided him. "Manhandling a lady? Where's your famous chivalry now? I always guessed it was overstated...nothing but a fable, just like your prowess in the bedroom."

"The only fable here is your masquerade, pretending you're a lady. You've the soul of a murderer, and the heart of a whore."

"Robin, release her!" Marian insisted, but her husband ignored her demand. Exiting his room, he continued pulling Isabella along the upstairs corridor, then opened the door to another room, dragging Isabella inside.

"You've got what you need in here," he told her, while she stared daggers at him. "There's clean drinking water in that pitcher, and everything else you need. If not, knock on the door, and one of my servants will bring you what you want."

"You're not locking me up, are you?" Isabella asked, amazed.

"Only until I think of a place to take you," he smirked back at her. "You can't stay here, under my roof."

"Take me?" she echoed, her features settling into a provocative glance. "Why don't you 'take me' here? You know you want to."

Disgusted, Robin only grimaced, then slammed the door shut, locking her in, alone.

He mustn't let her affect him, he was thinking. She had a way of sending his pulses racing, but not in the way she suggested. She held no allure for him, only anger and disgust. The sooner she left his home, the better.

Returning to his room, he found Marian sitting up in bed, obeying Matilda's order of bed rest. She appeared to be engrossed in the pages of a law book, but she was too worked up to absorb what she read.

"Don't you ever use my condition, to accuse me of losing my reason!" she scolded her husband angrily, as he stood by their bed. "Do you hear me?"

"Why did you befriend her, Marian?" he asked, no longer angry now that Isabella was locked away, but merely bewildered by the change in his wife. "You know she's nothing but trouble. She poisons everything she touches, literally."

Neither one liked the distance their argument put between them, but mutual pride kept them from relenting.

When Marian answered by rolling her eyes, Robin's anger returned. "I would have thought you would have learned by now," he shouted at her, just as he had done in the cave, years before. "Anyone with the name 'Gisbourne', can't be trusted."

"What are you planning to do with her?" Marian asked him, ignoring his reference to Guy. "You can't keep the Queen of England locked up, a prisoner in our house. And you mustn't send her back to her husband."

"What did she tell you, Marian?" he asked.

"I don't want to tell you."

Her tone was superior, snippy even, but when she saw how unhappy he looked from believing she didn't trust him, her anger melted away. "It isn't you," she assured him, lovingly. "It's just what she said is so unspeakable. Trust me, Robin. It involves torture, and humiliation, and something so base and ugly, I can't describe it. I don't care any more how awful she is; we have to protect her."

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she sucked in her breath. Immediately, Robin sat beside her on the bed.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned.

The law book slid off the bed and dropped to the floor, but Marian answered her husband's concern with an excited, wonderous smile.

"I felt the baby kick," she told him, bringing a smile to his face that matched her own.

"Already?" Wonderment shone on his face and in his voice.

Positioning himself behind her, he wrapped his arms around her middle. Fanning out his fingers, he rested his hands on her abdomen, held his breath, and waited.

Her hair was soft as silk against his cheek and neck, her scent delicate and lovely as a distant spring garden. Isabella was forgotten, as he held Marian in his arms, hoping to feel their unborn child move within her.

She was his one true beloved, and he would kill before he'd let another Gisbourne hurt her.


	87. Chapter 87

Silently expectant, Robin waited with his hands on Marian's abdomen, hoping to feel the baby kick within her womb.

"I felt it!" he cried out at last, jubilantly.

"That was my stomach grumbling," Marian said with a laugh. "I'm hungry, Fool."

The once derisive insult was now a term of endearment. Laughing along with his wife, Robin kissed Marian's hair and offered, "Well then, I will bring you something to eat. What would you like?"

"Squirrel stew," she teased, enjoying being wrapped in his arms. "No. On second thought, I'd like buttered bread. And milk."

"Buttered bread it is. Just don't drop any crumbs on my side of the bed!"

"Which side is that?"

Since they usually slept entwined together, they could have made use of a much narrower bed.

Hopping up, Robin left to head downstairs to the kitchen. No sooner had he gone, then she felt the baby kick again.

"You're going to be a little handful," she grinned, rearranging the pillows behind her back.

...

In no time at all, Robin returned bearing a tray in his hands, and Ellen on his shoulders. Marian's face lit up with a mother's joy.

He needed to stoop to get through the doorway so as to not bump their daughter's head, but he did it with his perfect natural grace.

"You'll need to wait before eating," he told Marian, placing the tray on a table before depositing Ellen in her lap. "I tasted it for you, so if anything happens to me-"

"Don't be ridiculous," Marian interrupted. "She can't have poisoned it! She's been in our sight all the time, until you locked her up. What are you planning to do with her, anyway?"

"I'm taking her to Kirklees, as soon Ian saddles my horse."

"Both of you, on one horse? That sounds cozy."

"Horsie, neigh," Ellen said, clutching her toy horse in her tiny hands. She'd loved the toy so thoroughly, it was barely recognizable, having been loved into a misshapen wad of stuffed leather, on four legs.

"Two horses, then," Robin agreed. "It will just take me longer to get home."

After a pause, Marian relented. "You're right. Let her ride pillion behind you. It will be easier to protect her, should you meet anyone bent on taking her back."

"Now, why would anyone want to do that?"

After making his wry comment, Robin made no move to go, no matter how much he wanted Isabella out from under his roof. The thought of leaving Marian and Ellen to spend time alone in her company was nothing to be desired.

He didn't say it, but he found it ironic that he'd come full circle in his dealings with the treacherous Isabella of Gisbourne. The very first time he'd met her, she was fleeing an abusive husband. He only wished he'd known what he knew now. He would have sent her back to Squire Thornton, rather than step in to protect her.

"Why are we saving her again, my love?" he asked Marian.

"Because she needs us. Now go, so you can return all that much sooner."

Kissing his wife and child, Robin then armed himself with sword, bow, and quiver. Squaring his shoulders, he next armed himself with resolve, not to let Isabella affect him on the long journey to Kirklees Abbey.


	88. Chapter 88

_ "Guy, Last night was bliss. Come to my bed again soon, my darling, for I live for your love. I am yours, Marian"_

An evil smile swept slowly across Isabella's face as she laid down her quill and waved the parchment, allowing the ink to dry. Wouldn't this little sample of her handiwork wreck havoc in the otherwise happy household at Locksley when it was discovered! After all, Robin didn't have a clue that Isabella counted forgery as yet another of her many arts and skills. She couldn't wait for him to discover this little love note Guy "had received" while he had been living under this roof.

A few rapid knocks on her door accompanied by Robin's voice warning, "I'm opening the door, Isabella...we're leaving," made her quickly hide the note she'd forged under a stack of other household papers.

Robin's face looked relieved when he saw her standing near the desk.

"Were you expecting to find me waiting for you, naked, on the bed?" she asked, archly. "And you, a happily married man!"

"We're going," he repeated, ignoring her remarks.

"Going where?"

"I'm taking you to Kirklees."

But Isabella had no desire to trade Locksley Manor, which housed the object of her desire, for Kirklees Abbey, which held nothing but dull, pious nuns. Quickly, she made up excuses, once again playing the helpless damsel in distress.

"No! Please! I won't be safe there!"

"You'll be safer there than under my roof," he told her, implying that he himself might be tempted to do her harm. "You may claim Sanctuary."

"But John has no respect for the Holy Mother Church! You know that!"

"You're going, and that's final."

"No."

Despite not wanting to leave, a thrill shot through Isabella when Robin, with an exasperated sigh, picked up her body and slung her, face down, over his shoulder. She didn't speak a word as he carried her down the stairs and out the door of his house, stopping him at last when he tried lifting her onto the horse.

"Side-saddle!" she cried. "I must ride side-saddle!"

"You've ridden astride before," Robin argued. "I've seen you."

"But I'm not wearing anything under my gown!"

Instantly, Robin let her go, then backed a few steps away.

Enjoying his delicious discomfort, Isabella coyly continued, "Not a stitch! Truly! Care to see for yourself?"

"That won't be necessary." Recovering himself, he ordered, "Go in the house, and borrow something decent from my wife."

"Now who's being a spoilsport, as you like to say?"

"Just do it!"

With the smart alack expression of a spoiled brat, Isabella turned her back and reentered the manor.

She had no choice but to obey him, though she hated doing it. _At least I painted a picture in his mind,_ she triumphantly told herself.

Marian, interrupted from reading a storybook to her scrawny freckled-faced brat, supplied her with the hated required undergarments, without asking any questions. _Just wait until Robin finds the note you "wrote" Guy!_ Isabella's thoughts gloated.

It was really too bad he wouldn't discover it before he took her to Kirklees! What an excuse it would give him to pay his priceless Marian back, repaying infidelity with infidelity! No matter. He'd find it soon enough. And even without knowing its existence, Robin would be putty in her hands.

Oh, yes! Isabella fully intended to make this a journey to remember!


	89. Chapter 89

Isabella could barely contain her desire, pressed up against Robin's backside, clinging to him as they rode off together on his horse. It took every bit of restraint within her not to rub up against his back, stroke his thighs, or nibble on his neck.

"What a lovely little girl you have," she began instead, pretending she found his brat adorable. "I suppose you want a boy, this time?"

She'd found his weakness. He couldn't resist smiling, to talk about his family.

"Boy or girl, so long as its healthy. But yes, if you press me, I'd like a boy. So would Marian."

_Oh, I'll press you alright! I'll straddle you and squeeze you between my thighs, till you beg for mercy!_

"Your wife's looking well. She's positively glowing."

"No thanks to you."

"I didn't poison her!" Isabella lied. "How could I, when I wasn't anywhere near her? How can I make you believe me?"

"You can't. I know you too well, Isabella."

_No, Robin, not well enough. Let's get off this horse, and explore one another. I'll let you get to know every inch of me._

"Be fair, Robin. Can I help it if that foolish Annora was so in love with you, she did something despicable to try to win you away from your wife? She was hysterical over you, after all. She threw herself to her death because of you, don't forget."

_You stiffened. That conscience of yours is troubling you, isn't it? Good. I have a cure to help you forget, Robin. I have several cures._

"Let's not talk of death," Isabella continued, ignoring the fact she had introduced the subject. "Life is tragic enough, without discussing its many sorrows. Let's talk of Life! Tell me, have you picked out any names for your new child?"

Once again, Robin broke into a smile. "We can't seem to agree, but I'll probably give in, since my wife has to do all the hard work before it's born."

"And when it is born, will it be coming out the front, or behind?"

At first, Robin couldn't grasp her meaning. "Babies come out head first, so I've been told. Except for me. Matilda claims I came out feet first, to get a running start! Let's hope my offspring shows its mother more mercy."

"I don't believe you understood me, Robin," Isabella told him, snidely, dropping her friendly charade. "I didn't ask how the baby would come out, but where."

For a moment, Robin felt like Much must always feel, at a loss to understand. Suddenly grasping her meaning, he spat out, "You are a whore!"

"What? Doesn't your precious Marian let you sample all the pleasures of her body? I'm sure Guy didn't have your scruples, where Marian was concerned! You may have entered by the front door first, but I'm sure he found the back door unlocked!"

Jerking the reins of his horse to an abrupt stop, Robin leaped down from his horse and commanded, "Get down!"

The anger in his eyes frightened Isabella, and she knew better than to obey. "You're not planning on leaving me stranded here alone, a helpless woman, are you?"

"Just do it. Get off my horse, you foul-mouthed whore."

"Who's the foul mouth? I haven't called you any names, or your precious Marian! She's not the virtuous lady you think her, you know. Guy burned for her, and believe me, he took her in every possible way imaginable! Just like I'll let you take me."

Unable to stand any more filth, Robin pulled Isabella to the ground. She took advantage of their proximity to grab at him.

"Remember this?" she breathed, lustfully. "I do so enjoy tugging your sword from its sheath."

The Code of Chivalry Robin had always sworn to uphold, deserted him in an instant. Shaking her off, he shoved Isabella up against a tree, glaring at her with murder in his eyes.

Fearing for her life, Isabella couldn't stop her quick, panting breaths. "Kill me," she gasped. "You're no different from any man! My father, my brother, both my husbands! Every man's the same! You all think you can bruise and beat me!"

At that, Robin came to his senses. "I'm nothing like your brother," he told her, angrily. "I won't dirty my hands, touching you."

"What are you going to do then?" Isabella asked. "You're not...you're not leaving me here, alone, are you? A helpless woman?"

"You've never been helpless," Robin sneered, swinging himself back into his saddle. "Kirklees is that direction. I'm sure you'll find a warm meal waiting for you there. Goodbye, Isabella."

Furious, Isabella watched him wheel his horse around and gallop off toward Locksley.

"You'll be sorry," she sneered back, before lifting her skirts to begin walking back to Nottingham Castle.


	90. Chapter 90

Before heading directly home, Robin paid a visit to the village of Clun, ensuring all was well among its residents. The company of these good, simple people helped to somewhat shake off the stain Isabella's filthy talk had cast over him, but it wasn't until he was home again, holding his wife in his arms, that he truly felt clean again.

Marian, still recovering from the effects of Isabella's poison, was asleep in their bed, softly snoring. Robin grinned, finding her snoring adorable. Without even bothering to kick off his boots, he climbed into bed beside her, wrapping her gently in his arms.

The taint of Isabella's company seemed to wash off him, as he basked in his wife's warmth. He filled his senses with the fresh, clean scent of her hair, the silky smoothness of her skin, and the incomparable loveliness of her ink black lashes above her creamy, rounded cheek. He felt an overwhelming desire to kiss her lips, moist and slightly open as she slept, but he settled for her hair, not wanting to wake her.

"I love you, Marian," he breathed, pouring out his heart to her, unaware he had spoken the words.

She stopped snoring, exhaled a small, contented sigh, then fluttered her lashes open as she pulled herself from her dream.

"You're back," she smiled, snuggling even more closely against him.

"Sorry to wake you, my love. Ellie's napping, too. The servants are beginning to complain. Not enough demands from the ladies of the manor, you know."

"The lord keeps them busy enough, putting his muddy boots on the beds."

"Oh! Sorry."

"Kiss me...no. Take off your boots first."

Happily, Robin obeyed. After removing his boots, he tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear, marveling at its softness, then kissed her so slowly, so deeply, she began shuddering with delight.

When the kiss ended, she lay back in his arms and confessed, "I had the most wonderful dream just now."

"Yes?"

She sighed again, nestling her cheek against his shoulder while her fingers played absently with the lacings on his shirt. "I dreamed we were at Knighton, taking Ellie to visit my father. It felt so real, it made me happy. I felt we were really there, with him."

Ever so gently, Robin tightened his arms around her, moved by her longing for her father. "He'd be so proud of you," he told her truthfully.

"And of you. And he'd adore Ellie."

Her eyes widened for just a moment, and an even brighter smile lit up her face. Without saying a word, she slid her husband's hands down her arms, placing them across her belly.

Robin grew excited, then euphoric, feeling the baby within her move.

"Someone else just woke up, it seems," Marian told him.

With tears in their eyes, they laughed joyfully together, sharing the beauty and wonderment their love had created.

Robin didn't care where Isabella was, so long as she wasn't under his roof, threatening the lives of his wife and child, or even the life of this precious unborn baby, who already seemed to want to make its presence known with will and determination.

"You see," Marian softly teased him. "This one's just like you, always wanting to be doing something."

"No sluggards in my family," Robin said with a grin, kissing her again.


	91. Chapter 91

Marian's week of prescribed bed rest ended, and she awoke to the sun streaming through her window. Robin, already fully awake, lay beside her, gazing at her with bold, inviting tenderness.

"I know what you're thinking, Locksley, but it's out of the question. Matilda forbad it, and besides, I'm not spending another moment in this bed...in this room...now that I can finally get up!"

Playfully, Robin seized her in his arms as she sat up and tried to climb from their bed, pulling her back.

"What's your hurry, Marian?" he asked, snickering. "Don't tell me you're sick of staying in bed, not our bed, anyway! The scene of so much pleasure?"

"Grow up!"

He let her wrest herself from his arms and climb out of bed. Propping himself on both elbows, he watched her move to the window, enchanted by her delight at the prospect of a day outdoors.

"What do you want to do today?" he asked, his voice warm and full of promises.

"Push you down the well first! No." Turning away from the window, she began gathering the clothing she would wear that day, a smile deepening her dimples. "I don't even want to sit down to eat, though I suppose I'll have to. I just want get outside, and walk! I want to spend time with our horses, and visit the people of Locksley! If I could, I'd sleep outdoors tonight!"

Disappearing behind a screen, Marian quickly dressed herself, while Robin bent one arm behind his head and lay back, a plan taking hold in his mind.

Why couldn't they sleep in his outlaw camp tonight? He'd pack a few provisions to make it comfortable, and make it a big adventure for Ellie.

He'd ride ahead to make sure it was still inhabitable for an expectant mother and a small child, and if it was, he'd keep it a secret from Marian, hoping to surprise her. No matter how much fun he'd make it, one night back in camp would be enough, he felt sure, for Marian to long for the comforts of their room in Locksley!

But before he did anything this morning, he needed to go through a few papers he'd been neglecting.

...

Marian and Ellen were outside in the vegetable garden, admiring the cabbages, when Robin found the letter.

_"Guy, Last night was bliss. Come to my bed again soon, my darling, for I live for your love. I am yours, Marian"_

Unable to tear his eyes from the parchment, Robin stood frozen, his heart tightening in his chest. Dread, jealousy, fury, were nothing to the hatred that washed over him as he pictured Guy of Gisbourne with his wife.

Marian couldn't have written this poisonous note! What was it doing here, stuffed among his papers? It was impossible! And yet, it was clearly her handwriting, without dispute.

Gripping the note in his fist, Robin strode from his house to hunt for Marian.

"What is this?" he snarled at her, shoving the note in her face without letting it go.

Marian had never seen Robin this angry at her ever before. Frightened, Ellen began to cry.

"Whatever it is," Marian snapped back at him, "it's not worth upsetting Ellie!" Stooping down to soothe away their little girl's tears, Marian cooed, "It's alright, Precious. Daddy's not really mad, are you? He's just pretending."

Mastering his emotion, Robin gently assured their daughter he was the same "daddy" she knew and loved. "Nurse Mattie," he called curtly, "please take Ellen inside."

"Let her play in the yard," Marian corrected. "It's too lovely a day to stay cooped up indoors."

"Why must you always undermine my authority?" Robin shouted at her, as soon as the nurse led Ellen away. "That was a good lie, by the way. You always were a skillful liar, weren't you?"

"What is wrong with you?" Marian shouted back at him, angry and confused by his temper.

Robin stood staring at her, as if she were his enemy, overcome by anger. In spite of her courage and love for the man, Marian felt the cold grip of fear knotting the pit of her stomach.

"Explain this, if you can," Robin snarled, again holding out the letter in his fist.

"Let me read it, and I will," Marian shot back at him.

Almost flinging it in her face, Robin let go of the parchment, then stood watching her read, his eyes boring into her, making her feel even more unsettled.

Marian couldn't believe her eyes. Unable to explain, she simply stammered, "This is ridiculous! I never wrote this!"

"It's in your hand," Robin accused, standing with arms folded across his chest among rows of cabbages, while curious villagers and Locksley servants watched the argument. "So tell me, Marian, when did you first give yourself to the gallant Sir Guy of Gisbourne? You were a virgin when you gave yourself to me, or was that a lie, too? And whose child was it, that Gisbourne killed, or do you even know?"

"How dare you? You can't believe this rubbish!"

"What lie are you going to tell me now? That this letter, in your hand, somehow magically appeared in my house, unwritten by you? Don't tell me you made love to him in our bed!"

Unable to explain, and feeling she shouldn't have to, Marian broke into tears. Turning away so he wouldn't see her cry, she could only sob, "If I'm a liar, it's because I had to be, to protect myself and my father, who, by the way, was a better man than you are, at this moment!"

Feeling suddenly weak, Marian walked away as quickly as she could, back into the house and up the stairs to their room, not recognizing the hateful person in the garden as being the same man she loved. With an anguished cry, she threw herself onto their bed and sobbed.


	92. Chapter 92

Blinded by rage, Robin followed Marian to their room to continue confronting her about the letter he believed she'd written to Gisbourne. Her tears cut through him like slashes from a sword, but he hardened his heart, believing they testified to her guilt. He didn't stop to consider their true source was his lack of trust in her, magnified by her delicate condition.

"What I want to know is," he snarled, pointing his finger at her as she lay sobbing on their bed, "how you could so deceive me, all this time making me think you cared only for me, while deep in your heart, you just couldn't decide between us!"

Tears gave way to anger, as Marian regained her dignity. Sitting up, she glared back at him, her chin held high. "You really believe me capable of that?"

"I have proof!"

Isabella's forgery was crushed in his fist, which he lifted in accusation. Marian mistakenly thought he meant to strike her, though she never would have believed her noble-hearted Robin capable of such a deed. Bravely, she refused to flinch, readying herself to strike back.

"I was a fool to ever care for you, Robin of Locksley, since it seems you're no different from Gisbourne, after all," she told him, hiding her hurt behind a show of proud defiance.

Robin felt the sting of her words. "How am I not different?" he shouted. "Gisbourne's a murderer, a man with no conscience, a man who takes pleasure inflicting pain on good, decent, innocent people...my people, whom I thought you cared about!"

"Are you so different, deriving pleasure from the pain you're inflicting on me?"

"You're hardly innocent. And this is not pleasure."

"You really believe that, don't you? Get out."

"Gladly!"

Without another word, Robin turned on his heel and strode from their room, surprising his wife. Open mouthed, she heard him below in the yard, thundering away on the back of his horse.

...

Robin didn't return home that night, and Marian refused to go hunting after him. It was the first night since they'd shared a bed, that he willingly stayed away.

Marian tried not to let her thoughts dwell on him, forcing herself to appear cheerful and not waste a moment brooding over his stubbornness. Yet she couldn't help being miserable over their argument, missing their close tenderness toward one another and his sunny smile. She assumed he must be spending the night at Bonchurch, and she hoped Much would help him to see reason.

But Robin was not at Bonchurch.

Needing to think, he'd galloped off alone to his former outlaw camp in Sherwood, where he spent the night without the comforts he had planned to pack to delight the company of his wife and child.

He could not sleep, but spent the night in tortured agony, longing to meet Gisbourne so he could kill him, as he wished he'd done years before when he'd had the chance.

Tomorrow would be Sunday, and he felt compelled to join his wife and daughter in their front pew in Locksley Church, for the peace of his village. But there was no peace in his heart.

Towards dawn, still believing in Marian's falseness, he dropped off to sleep, only to be further tormented by dreams of Guy of Gisbourne kissing his once beloved wife.


	93. Chapter 93

Robin sat stiff and tall in his front pew at Locksley Church, staring straight ahead at the altar. He neither looked to the pew on his right, where an anxious Much kept casting him wide, questioning glances across the aisle, fidgeting beside his calm wife Eve and their equally fidgety son Tweeks, nor especially to the left, where he knew Marian sat as stiffly as he, with Ellen squirming happily between them. He didn't hear a word of the familiar mass from Friar Tuck's worried lips, and he was trying desperately not to feel.

His hurt and anger were so great, he'd numbed himself to their pain. He couldn't think nor rationalize his anger away, confused and bewildered as he was by Marian's deception.

His heart, a heavy leaden lump in his chest, felt as if it were being squeezed. A strong hand seemed to have punched through his breastbone, seized his heart, and was twisting and squeezing its blood away, drop by drop. A strong hand with a vicelike grip, gloved in black leather. The same hand his fevered dreams of this morning's dawn had pictured stroking Marian's lovely, creamy nakedness, claiming her, possessing her warm, welcoming flesh. It was all Robin could do not to raise an anguished cry and turn over the church's altar!

Mark, Daniel's small young friend, serving as an altar boy, summoned those seated in the two front pews forward to take Communion. Struggling within himself to make his heart right, Robin rose and stepped aside, allowing Marian, with Ellen in her arms, to approach and kneel at the altar. Without meeting his wife's eyes, Robin followed.

There, on his knees beside his family, Robin waited, stone cold, to receive the Eucharist.

"This is my body, broken for you," Friar Tuck intoned, placing the bread between Robin's lips. "This is my blood, poured out for the forgiveness of sins."

Unable to stop his eyes, Robin glanced sideways, just in time to see a single tear from Marian fall with a splash into the Communion Cup. Lifting his eyes to her face, Robin watched another tear, then another, stream down her velvet cheek. And suddenly, his heart melted.

He knew then that he was the cause of her sorrow, not her guilt over what she might or might not have done with Gisbourne. And at that moment, Robin's pain, his overwhelming hurt, no longer mattered to him. All that mattered was Marian's pain and anguish.

He loved her, and he'd made her miserable. He needed to stop it, now. Reaching over Ellen's bowed head, he covered Marian's hand with his own.

Marian gave a small gasp, then looked with tear-filled eyes into his, his handsome blue eyes that were pleading with her for forgiveness.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, desperately.

"I never wrote that letter," she begged him, whispering back. "I never loved him, not with my body, nor my heart! Do you believe me?"

When he hesitated, she asked again, even more urgently, "Do you believe me?"

Everything was a choice, and Robin chose, at that moment, to believe her. The woman he knew her to be demanded nothing less.

"I believe you," he promised.

Rising from their knees at the altar, Marian slipped her hand in his. Their fingers entwined, and Robin's face broke into one of his smiles, flooding the church with sunshine.

Much breathed a loud sigh of relief, and Eve had to shush him when he spoke out, saying, "Well! That's a relief, I must say! For a moment there, I thought-Sorry! I'll shut up! The bread was good today, don't you think? Some of the best bread I've ever tasted!"

Everyone in the church was smiling now, glad that Lord and Lady Locksley had made up their quarrel. But Marian's smile was a bit more guarded. It would take time, and a long discussion, before she could completely put her unhappiness aside.


	94. Chapter 94

Happy again, Robin treated his entire village to an impromptu outdoor Sunday feast, rolling up his sleeves to help his servants set up trestle tables piled high with food upon his lawn.

"You said you wanted to eat outdoors," he said, winking at Marian in answer to her questioning glance.

Marian, he noticed, was quiet throughout the meal, smiling kindly, but with a touch of sadness still lingering in her eyes.

"We need to talk, I suppose," he murmured privately to her, when they'd finished their meal.

Lifting her eyebrows, Marian smiled at him now in true amazement. "You're inviting me to talk? This has to be a first, Locksley."

He answered with a tender, loving smile. "Let me just hand off Ellie to her nurse, and I'll be back."

Perched on his lap during the meal, Ellen had fallen asleep, her small round cheek against his stomach. Finding Nurse Mattie, Robin carried Ellen into her nursery, laying her gently in her cradle for her afternoon nap. Then he returned outdoors to find Marian waiting for him.

"Walk with me?" he asked, holding out his hand.

A warm, delightful shiver ran through his wife, at hearing his invitation. "You remind me of when we were betrothed," she told him, lacing her fingers through his.

"A walk will do you good," he teased her. "Work off that belly you're getting."

"Robin of Locksley! You know very well-" Shaking off her annoyance, she smilingly scolded, "You're exasperating, did you know that?"

They wandered, happy together, through fields of thick green grass, enjoying the mellow sunshine, sweet birdsong, and the fresh smell of the land. Their land.

When they reached an old stone lichen-covered wall, they stopped. Lifting Marian in his arms, Robin set her atop a chest-high pillar, where she sat gazing soberly down at him.

"Well?" she asked, waiting for him to begin. "You said you wanted to talk. Go on, then."

It took him awhile to open up, for he hated showing his feelings of vulnerability, especially to her. But knowing she still hurt, he began by saying, "I'm sorry, my love. I should have known you didn't write that letter."

"You should have trusted me, Robin. That's what hurts! That you'd believe me capable of lying to you, that way."

"I don't believe it, any more. I know you better than that."

In the ensuing pause, Marian wrapped her arms around his neck and began absently playing with the curls at its nape. "Where were you, last night?" she wondered, unable to stop a tear flowing from the loneliness of their long night apart.

Brushing it away with his thumb, he smiled sadly back at her. "You'll never guess. I spent the night in my old camp, tossing and turning on my bunk."

"In Sherwood? Robin, why? I was sure you'd gone to Bonchurch!"

"I wanted to be alone, to think."

The memory of last night came flooding back to him, too painful to think about. Putting it out of his mind, he explained, "I was planning on surprising you and Ellie, having the three of us camp out there, for fun."

"Fun? No thank you! It's getting hard enough to sleep lately, in our comfortable bed. But your thought was sweet."

Their lips met and clung together, while sorrow hovered over them, draining away the joy they usually felt in each other's company.

Gisbourne had once again cast his shadow over them, and it would take time before they could completely dismiss his presence.

Kisses upon kisses were finally interrupted by Much, waving a joint of pork above his head, rushing up to them completely out of breath. "Robin!" he shouted out, gasping for air. "The King's arrived, with Isabella! And they're not at all happy you didn't invite them to your party!"


	95. Chapter 95

Feeling in no hurry to welcome King John and Isabella to his estate, Robin reluctantly lifted Marian down from the stone wall and, grabbing hold of her hand, followed Much back to Locksley.

"Why is she here?" Marian asked, anxiously. "I thought you escorted her to Kirklees."

Thinking it wiser not to volunteer the fact he'd left Isabella alone and stranded on the way to Kirklees, Robin remained quiet. He didn't want to start another argument with Marian, just after they'd patched up their most recent quarrel, with their feelings still so raw. Thankfully, Much was talking so much, Robin couldn't get a word in edgewise, even if he'd wanted to.

"The king's really angry at you this time, not that he hasn't been angry before," Much warned him. "Oh, yes! There's nothing he hates as much as not being invited to a party!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Marian scolded, rolling her eyes. "It's not as if we planned to exclude him. Robin just thought of holding a feast, after mass. The whole thing was spontaneous."

"Spontaneous! Try telling the king that! You haven't seen his face! It's...it's...well, it's threatening! And...and purple! You just wait! You'll see!"

Marian looked concerned. "How does Isabella look? Is she alright?"

"Her?" Much exploded, confused. "Why do you want to know? You know how she looks! She looks...well, beautiful, and...and sly! Like a cat who licked up all the cream, secretly swallowing a songbird while she was at it!" In spite of the situation, he laughed. "Can't you just see her, with a few feathers sticking out the corner of her mouth? Wouldn't Sheriff Vaisey be mad, if she'd ate one of his birds? Or is it eaten? I never can remember!"

Marian had no wish to speak of Vaisey, or to give Much a lesson in grammar. Turning her face to Robin, she asked, "Do you suppose the king found her at Kirklees, and forced her to leave?"

For a moment, Robin didn't answer, staring into the depths of her eyes. He'd made a promise to himself, years ago, never to lie to her. "I doubt it," he finally replied, not lying exactly, but certainly veiling the truth.

By this time, they'd arrived in their village, and Robin let go of Marian's hand to stride purposefully toward the pouting king and his sneering queen.

"Your Majesties," Robin said, kneeling, hiding his disgust. "Welcome, once again, to Locksley."

"No, no, NO!" King John shouted, stomping his foot. "You can't be all nicey nicey now, Locksley, pretending you're happy to greet me, when all along, you treacherous fiend, you planned to host a party without me, knowing very well I was in your miserable little shire! It's nothing short of treason, I tell you!"

"Punish him, my king," Isabella insisted, slyly. "Torture him for his crime."

She could already picture Robin chained to a wall, shirtless and sweating, writhing in agony while she herself lashed his body with a whip.

"I had not meant to exclude Your Majesties," Robin told them, pleasantly, as he rose. "This feast was just a whim of mine, hardly worthy of your presence! But, now that you're here, it is my honor to invite you to-"

"Spare us your honey coated lies!" Isabella shrieked. "You know very well you planned this feast, laughing at your sovereign behind his back!"

Robin shot Isabella a glare, which she answered with a sneering look of triumphant.

_So, you and your precious Marian are still together! All that will change, when you find the little souvenir letter I left you! I only wish I could see your face when you read her words to my brother Guy!_

The king, meanwhile, began to weep.

"You wound me, Locksley! Is it too much to ask, for a king to want his subjects to love him?"

Growing suddenly vicious, he mocked threateningly,"After all, you, above all men, know what it is to long for the love of your people! Well, then, let's see if my words can turn them against you!" Lifting his voice to address the crowd, he proclaimed, "Good people of Locksley! Poor, misguided humble folk! Your lord, whom you profess to love so much, is nothing but a vicious killer! Did you know that? Alas, it's true! Locksley here, while appearing to be innocent, has committed a vile, indecent crime!"

"What crime?" Marian couldn't help demanding.

When the king saw her, his face lit up in a leering grin. "Oh! Lovely Miriam! My, how you've swollen up, in such a short time! I suppose it will have to be you in the saddle, when we finally enjoy our ride together, between the sheets! I, for one, can't wait!"

Marian's cheeks flamed with embarrassment and indignation, but her feelings were nothing compared to Robin's righteous anger.

"Apologize to my wife," he demanded, not caring what rank the king held.

"Apologize? You have some nerve, Locksley, issuing orders to your monarch! Especially when I have come here, to have you arrested!"

"Arrested? For not inviting you to dinner?"

"Well, there's that, too. But no. I have come to charge you with the murder of Annora Fitzhugh!"

No one knew who threw the first turnip at the king and queen. Some claimed it was Daniel, the stable boy, while others later insisted it was Kate, the potter's daughter. But it didn't matter, for whoever started the assault of fruit and vegetables on the royal couple, had the rest the village behind them. Turnips, onions, apples, all began flying through the air to rain upon a screaming King John and his shrieking queen. Chaos broke out, and the king's guards couldn't get close enough to stop the assault.

Robin watched in shock, especially when he saw Marian pick up an apple and throw it, hitting the king squarely on his nose.

"Stop! Stop! Stop!" Robin shouted, and such was his command, his orders were instantly obeyed.

The king, outraged and furious, could hardly speak. When he finally managed to gain a measure of control, he bellowed, "Every person who dared hurl an object at my royal person, will lose a hand!"

"No!" Robin shouted, while his people cowered in fear. "No one loses anything today!"

"Someone has to pay for their attack on the king!" Isabella cried, smoothing down her hair. "My poor sire!" Wearing her slyest look, she seductively made a show of nibbling on her husband's ear, then whispered loud enough for all to hear, "Let Locksley prove his love for his village! Let him forfeit a hand in their place! Just think, my king, how difficult it will be for him, to shoot his bow with only one hand!"

King John laughed gleefully. "Once again, my pet, you delight me with your suggestions! Very well! Locksley! I have decided to be merciful to your village, though your peasants don't deserve my bountiful mercy! You will be the one to give up your hand, in their stead! Pity you've trimmed your nails! I plan to have your hand preserved, and attached to an ivory stick! What a novel back scratcher it will make! Don't you agree, lovely Miriam?"


	96. Chapter 96

"Please, Your Majesty, I beg you, spare my husband's hand!"

Dropping to her knees before King John, Marian pleaded with her eyes for the king to show mercy. But she could find no hint of humanity behind his spoiled, hardened expression. She immediately launched into another argument, using logic.

"How will Lord Locksley be able to protect you, if he cannot shoot his bow?"

She could almost feel Robin's eyes behind her, their expression changing from alarm to approval as a smile stole over his face.

"Protect me?" the king whined. "But he's a vicious killer! He threw the delicate Mistress Fitzhugh over the castle ramparts!"

"Did he, or is that just your wife's accusation, to force you to arrest him? Ask yourself, Your Majesty, if Lord Locksley were a killer, why didn't he aim an arrow at Sheriff Vaisey when he presided over the shire? Locksley had nothing whatever to lose at the time, yet he let his enemy live."

"His enemy, who was my representative? May I remind you of that, Lady Locksley?"

Ignoring the twinge of fear she felt by King John's threatening tone, she pressed on, returning to her earlier argument. "All the same, you need Locksley now, to protect you. You yourself said you are beleaguered by those who wish to kill you. Surely Your Majesty hasn't forgotten the attempt to poison you."

"It's true, my lovely, though all too swollen girl, I am besieged on every side!"

"Can your guards protect you? They couldn't even stop the people here today from throwing vegetables at you!"

"It's true, it's true! My guards are useless! Just look what some fiend did to my nose! I believe it's broken!"

While Marian turned sympathetic eyes on the king, Isabella pictured Robin slipping from her grasp. Hurriedly, she sought to make herself heard. "My king! Don't listen to her! She's using her wiles to try to deceive you! Cut off Locksley's hand, and turn it into a backscratcher! Look at his long, tapering fingers! Think how good it will feel, when I use them to scratch your back!"

"Oh, shut up, you stupid cow!" the king whined, annoyed. "Did I ask for your opinion? I was having a delightful conversation with the lovely Miriam!" Smiling down at Marian, he adopted a caressing tone to say, "I will grant your request, my dear, provided you do something nice for me as well! Shall we go upstairs in your house, and partake of our long awaited pleasure?"

Marian went pale, and Robin strode to stand threateningly between her and the king. "Lay one finger on my wife, and I'll-"

"I'm sorry, but it's impossible, Your Majesty," Marian interrupted, struggling to ease herself to her feet. "The midwife has forbidden any such contact, for the good of the baby."

Unhappy at the news, King John glared back and forth between Robin and Marian. Finally settling his leering gaze on Marian, he pursued, "You two aren't having any fun at all? It's almost comical! But, my dear, there are other ways we can play together, without-"

Knowing she needed to cut him off before Robin did something desperate, Marian cried out, "Your Majesty, look out!"

The king dropped to the ground, covering his head with his arms. "Help! Locksley! Save me!"

"She's lying, my king," Isabella spat. "You're in no danger! You don't need Locksley! Cut off his hand! Arrest him for murdering that poor, innocent girl!"

"What are you doing?" Marian hissed at her. "Robin and I tried to help you!"

"As if I needed help from you! In case you didn't know, Robin left me stranded on the road, entirely at the mercy of any brute who passed my way!"

"He took you to Kirklees!"

"He didn't! He forced me off his horse, and left me to fend for myself, a poor, defenseless woman! I had no choice but to return to Nottingham!"

With Marian's eyes questioning him, Robin explained, "I couldn't listen to her filth any more. Anyway, she's proven who she is today, with her demands for my hand and her false accusations."

"That isn't the point! You lied to me, Robin! You let me think you'd taken her to Kirklees!"

"I've never lied to you!"

The king, unhappy that he was no longer the center of attention, called out, "Bored now. Guards! Take Locksley to the dungeon. I arrest you, Hood, for the crime of murder, not to mention neglecting to invite me to your feast!"


	97. Chapter 97

Barely daring to breathe, Marian crept cautiously through the darkened corridors of Nottingham Castle, on what she considered a life or death mission.

Her back ached dreadfully, her thighs burned, while her feet felt covered in blisters, yet she kept on, believing she might be able to free her husband. The trousers she wore were so tight they cut into her belly, and the padding over her arms and shoulders, meant to balance out her torso and disguise her pregnancy, made movement of her arms difficult.

_Good thinking, Marian, _she scolded herself. _H__ow do you expect to shoot accurately, when you can't even fully lift your arms?_

But still she pressed onward, slinking against the stone walls on silent feet, for Robin's life depended on her, and she would not fail him.

Her plan was not to try to spring him out of the dungeon, for what would that accomplish? His freedom would only force him into hiding to live again as an outlaw. No, she wanted him home in Locksley, in his rightful place as Lord of the Manor and head of their family, with his name cleared and his life free from the threat of the hangman's noose. It was necessary, and she did not balk that her plan had to be something far more dangerous to her safety, than merely trying to free Robin.

Marian needed to convince King John that his own life was threatened, so that he would demand Robin's release, issue a full pardon, and value him as his protector. And that was the reason she, disguised as a man, was posing as the king's assassin.

Reaching the outside corridor where she could aim an arrow through the open, barred window of the king's bedchamber, Marian looked quickly over her shoulder to make certain no one was watching. The padding under Robin's shirt she had borrowed hindered her, and so it took her longer than usual to reach for an arrow and nock it to her bow.

_Please, Lord, do not let me hit anyone!_ she implored her Creator before firing.

"Oi! What are you doing? Trying to shoot the King?" a guard demanded, charging at her from out of nowhere.

For a brief instant, Marian panicked, trying to reach another arrow from her quiver to stop the guard from rushing at her. But she was clumsy within her padding, and she couldn't lay hold of one to nock to her bow. Nor could she spring into the Nightwatchman's flips in her condition, kicking the guard out of her way. She couldn't even run, though she first tried to do so. The baby in her belly felt as if it was bouncing up and down, and she clutched her sides in pain, worrying that she had hurt her child.

She remembered seeing Robin slam his bow into his assailants as they tried to grab him, and she felt it would be her only way to escape capture. Stopping in her tracks, she spun around to face her pursuer, who was panting as he ran toward her, every moment drawing closer and closer.

JAB! With her bow's end, she slapped the man in his gullet, feeling relieved when he doubled over in pain, allowing her to get away. But she'd only taken a few hurried steps, when she ran head on into three other guards, sent by the king as he cowered in fear from the surprise attack on his life.

Fearlessly, Marian swung her bow at all three men, but only managed to hit one. The other two easily overpowered her.

"Soft muscles," one commented, squeezing the padding on her arms.

"You can't hide behind that mask," another threatened. "Let's see the ugly mug of the man who dares shoot an arrow through the king's window!"

Pulling the mask from Marian's face, all three guards stared in shock into the beautiful periwinkle eyes staring back at them.

"Whoa!" the first one breathed at last. "We gotta take her to the king! What do you think he'll do, when he finds out a woman tried to kill him?"


	98. Chapter 98

"Get off me!"

Lying on a hard wooden bench within his damp dungeon cell, Robin snapped open his eyes. That was Marian's voice, raised in angry protest, ordering some villain to unhand her!

In no time at all, Robin was on his feet, glaring through the bars of his cell door, longing to rush to Marian's defense. But he didn't stand there for long, for the jailor had shortly unlocked his door, shoving Marian inside.

The joy at seeing one another again caused the young couple to temporarily forget everything else, including the sound of their cell door slamming shut, locking them inside.

Robin broke their kiss to ask, "Are you alright?"

Her pale, strained face worried him, but her clothing of far too tight trousers, topped by one of his shirts and vests which did little to disguise her condition, worried him even more.

"Are you?" she asked, not waiting for an answer before pressing her lips to his again.

Pouring herself into her kiss out of need for him, she clung to him tightly, relieved that he still lived.

Being in his arms again helped her forget her recent humiliation. The guards had dragged her to the king, whose rage at discovering the "lovely Miriam" had shot an arrow into his bedchamber made him livid, and he unleashed his revenge, and his lust, by demanding she be strip searched in front of him. Not about to stand by and allow it to happen, Marian tried reaching for a dagger she had stashed in her boot, but her pregnant belly had hindered her, and she couldn't bend down to retrieve it. She'd been forced to endure the king ogling her body, while Isabella looked on as well, mockingly laughing at the scars her brother Guy had marked on her, as well as her round, swollen belly and heavy breasts. And of course, the king had discovered the dagger, which only served to seal her doom.

"What are you doing here, Marian?" Robin asked, torn between love and worry. "Don't tell me you tried to rescue me!"

He held her in his arms, not wanting to let her go, even as an argument appeared to be looming.

"And why shouldn't I? I couldn't let the king cut off your hand, or worse yet, hang you!"

"Tell me you didn't act alone. Tell me, at the very least, you brought John along."

"Since when has Little John ever been 'the least,' Robin? And you know perfectly well I do better, on my own."

"So I can assume being captured, and locked in a cell with me, was part of your plan? Bad idea."

"You know very well it wasn't! I would have succeeded, if it hadn't been for..."

Her voice caught in her throat, and she didn't want to say anything more. Fighting back tears that threatened to spill from her eyes, she began to doubt herself for hating the condition of her body, which rendered her helpless as an old woman, even while continuing to love the child growing within her.

Hating to see her cry, Robin dropped his anger and frustration and pulled her gently against his hard chest, lightly stroking her hair and almost rocking her as he swayed slightly on his feet.

"Shh," he soothed. "It's alright. I did not mean what I said. You were right to want to rescue me, Marian, and I'm a lout for having been ungrateful."

"A lout?" She almost smiled. "I've never heard you called that before. But you were right. I should have asked your men to help me, especially now, that I can't even run away. What are we going to do now? I hope you have half a plan, at least."

But he didn't. Not yet. And now that she was here, locked up with him, with her precious life in as much danger as his own, he knew he needed to pray, and to think, of a way out.


	99. Chapter 99

Utterly exhausted, Marian dozed lightly while sitting up, her head on Robin's shoulder, her body encircled in his arms.

Longing to protect her, Robin thought hard, trying to come up with of a plan to escape. Marian, he believed, would be safe for a few months at least, until the baby was born. That bought her time, but he wasn't about to let the king hang him, leaving her alone in a cell awaiting the birth of their child, only to be killed after its delivery.

His thoughts were unfortunately interrupted by the approach of King John and Queen Isabella, strutting down the dungeon steps to gloat at the spectacle of their prisoners, locked up together in their dingy cell.

"Wakey wakey Locksley!" the king almost giggled, so great was his mirth at seeing the mighty Earl of Huntington once again brought to the lowly state of prisoner. "Or should I call you Hood? After all, once I declare you guilty and see you executed, your lands and estates will revert to the Crown, which, may I remind you, amounts to me!"

"When I die, Your Majesty," Robin told him, unconsciously holding Marian a bit tighter, "my property will belong to my heirs."

By this time, Marian had awakened. Still foggy with sleep, she couldn't at first remember where she was. But seeing King John and Isabella gloating on the other side of the cell door, the horrible memory of yesterday's events came flooding back to her, especially her humiliation at being stripped, stared and laughed at.

"What heirs?" the king mocked. "One scrawny daughter won't inherit your property, Locksley! I'll see to that!"

"Well, since I'm innocent, we don't need to waste time worrying over that, now, do we?" Robin stated, his manner light and mocking, though he seethed inside at hearing his little girl threatened and insulted. "In fact, if there's any justice left in England, I plan to be home well before time to welcome my second child into the world."

"Plan all you like," Isabella sneered. "That child will never see the light of day!"

A dreadful silence fell over the dungeon, as Robin contemplated the possible import of her words.

Marian couldn't let Isabella's threat go unchallenged. "What are you saying?" she demanded to know.

Isabella, looking triumphant, only sneered in reply.

"Your wife's a fat cow, did you know that, Locksley?" King John asked, laughing at Marian through the cell door. "To think, it was only a short time ago, she drove me mad with her body! And before me, she drove Gisbourne mad! But look at her now...a fat, swollen, ungainly brood mare, marred with the scars from Gisbourne's blade! I took no pleasure, none at all, eyeing her naked, you know."

Marian, eyes cast down, blushed in humiliation and shame. Robin's eyes widened in horror, as he tried to process this terrible piece of news.

"Oh, yes," Isabella happily informed him. "My husband strip searched her, after she was caught. That's right, Robin! John and I saw her naked, and he didn't like what he saw, did you, my king? After all, Robin dear, you saw _me_ naked. To use one of _your_ sayings, 'Seems only fair.' "

"Everyone's seen _you_ naked," Robin sneered back at her, his heart breaking over Marian's distress. "And my wife's no cow. She's beautiful."

"Beautiful?" King John screeched. "She tried to kill me!"

Robin's mind raced, as he looked to Marian for answers. Had she really tried to kill the king? He couldn't believe it! Sneaking into the dungeon to rescue him, yes, but regicide? No matter how evil John was, he was still England's crowned king, and no man, or woman, had a right to take his life.

"Marian?" Robin asked, needing her to explain.

"It was an act," she told him, and the king as well. "I thought, if Your Majesty believed yourself in danger, you would release my husband, so he could protect you. Believe me, I had no intention of harming Your Majesty."

"Lies, lies, and more lies!" the king screamed. "You shot an arrow into my bedchamber, then wanted to finish the dastardly deed with your dagger! But you'll be the one, Cow, to feel the cold blade of a dagger bite into your flesh! At noon, I'll see you hung, drawn, and quartered, for daring to try to take your king's life!"

"You can't touch her," Robin warned, placing Marian behind him in an unconscious attempt to defend her. "She's expecting a child, so you'll just have to wait."

"Do you think I care about that?" the king cried. "No, Locksley! At noon today, she dies!"

"We have got to get out of here," Robin whispered to Marian, more determined than ever to save the woman he loved. "Don't worry, my love. I have a plan."


	100. Chapter 100

"This...is a rescue! Oh, hello, Marian! What are you doing here?"

Surrounded by a cloud of dust, Much stood proudly in the open doorway of Robin's cell. Little John, panting from having shoved the door in after Will had weakened its hinges, stood immediately behind Lord Bonchurch, while Will looked back over his shoulder, watching for guards.

Marian hugged her husband, overjoyed to see their friends come to their rescue.

"Was this part of your plan?" she teased, fondly.

Grinning infectiously, Robin answered, "As a matter of fact, yes. I knew I could count on Much, the moment he watched my arrest."

By way of thanks, Robin threw Much a wink. With no time to lose, he then took charge, for leading came as naturally to him as breathing. "John," he commanded, "take Marian. Sorry, my love," he told his wife, "we'll have to run, and-"

"Running, we do not like," Little John complained, interrupting Robin without explaining.

Will offered up an explanation. "John's twisted his ankle, Robin. He can't run, any better than Marian can."

"Robin, what do we do?" Much asked, beginning to panic. "I mean, getting in wasn't much of a problem...it never is! It's getting out that causes all the trouble! I didn't know Marian would be here! Why? Why is she here? Oh, I hate this! I hate it! I knew it! We're going to die! We're all going to die!"

"Nobody's going to die, Much," Robin assured him, irritated at his friend for blaming Marian. "At least, not today."

"Then how are we going to get out? The whole castle's filled with guards, expecting you to make an escape! Which, I might add, we might have done, if it hadn't been for Marian, who wasn't supposed to be here! What is she doing here, anyway?"

"Like you, I was trying to rescue my husband," she explained, curtly.

"Well! I'm not saying anything! I'm not saying anything!"

"Good! Don't!"

Robin stopped the confrontation with a lift of his hand. "There isn't time to argue. We've got to get Marian out of here, now. Much, John, find Allan, and Will, go after Matilda. Here's what I need you to do..."

Much, listening to Robin's plan, couldn't help but raise objections. "But, Robin, we just can't leave you here!"

"I can't leave Marian, and she's in no condition to run. Just do what I say, now! The king wants to..." He couldn't bring himself to voice the unspeakable words.

"He wants to have me killed, at noon," Marian finished what Robin couldn't say. "Please, do as Robin commands. It's our only hope."

Will nodded, Much gulped, and Little John demanded, "We go, now."

"Immediately!" Much agreed.

...

Matilda was only too pleased to help Robin and his gang rescue Marian from a horrible death she didn't deserve. And when Allan learned that Marian's life was threatened, he couldn't wait to play his part to help save her.

With Djaq masquerading as his prettiest tavern girl, Allan made quite a show of distributing free drinks, laced with Matilda's potent sleeping draught, to all the castle guards.

"Drink up, gents!" Allan invited. "Courtesy of the Trip!"

"What's the occasion?" a suspicious guard, with slightly more brains than the rest, asked.

"Ah! That would be...in honor of the day the queen first lost her virginity! Yeah!"

Djaq shot Allan a disapproving stare, but the guards laughed boisterously, and every one of them reached for the cups on Djaq's tray.

"Bottom's up, eh, gents?" Allan laughed.


	101. Chapter 101

Hidden within the sheltering cloak of Sherwood Forest, Robin and his gang, together with Marian and Ellen, trudged familiar paths known only to them, heading toward the cave Much hated so greatly.

Robin supported a tired and footsore Marian on his arm, while carrying their sleepy-eyed daughter upon his back. Much, holding Robin's bow and quiver, kept up a steady stream of complaints against the cave, to work off his anxiety.

After the first exuberant rush brought on by the successful rescue, the mood of everyone was beginning to sour, as the gang contemplated losing the lives they loved to become outlaws once again. Looking about him at the grim, unhappy faces of his friends and family, Robin knew he needed to do something to lift everyone's spirits.

"Tell us about your new sweetheart, Allan," he suggested, as a way to end Much's whining.

Allan grinned. "Which one?"

"Very funny!" Much scolded.

"You mean Virginia?" the cheeky tavern keeper asked. "Her! Not bein' funny, but there's not a lot to tell, in mixed company. I used to call her 'Virgin' for short, but not for long!"

The joke worked, for Little John, despite his twisted ankle, guffawed loudly, wanting to hear more. The others either smiled or rolled their eyes.

"Much! Your friends are still here, the bats," Allan teased, shielding his head as they entered the cave.

"How are you?" Robin quietly asked his wife, concerned for her tired eyes, and remembering the time he struggled to carry her inside this entrance, soaked through with rain, when she couldn't walk from Gisbourne's dagger wound in her side. Carefully, he helped her to sit, then handed her Ellie, who had drifted off to sleep.

"What are we going to do, Robin?" Marian asked, her courage failing. "I don't want to raise Ellie, or give birth to our next child, in this cave!"

"You won't have to, my love," he promised. "Trust me."

Much handed Robin his bow and quiver, then bustled about trying to make the cave comfortable, resuming his role as Robin's servant.

Everyone else felt odd, being back here together, hiding from the law.

"Thank you, my friends," Robin told them sincerely, looking at each person in turn, while he stood beside his pregnant wife. "You saved our lives. But there's no reason for you to stay. No one knows you helped us. Go back to your homes."

"Home...is Sherwood," Little John stated, firmly. "We...are Robin Hood!"

"That's very kind, John, but it's not," Robin told them all. "Not any more. Not for any of us."

"Where will we live?" Marian couldn't help asking.

Robin had been dreading this moment, knowing Marian would object to his suggestion. But he knew the time had come to tell her. Crouching down on his haunches beside her, he looked directly into her lovely eyes and said, "I need you and Ellie to go to Kirklees, where you'll be safe. Will, I'm trusting you to lead them there, as soon as Marian gets a few hours rest."

"Of course!" Will agreed, honored by Robin's faith in him.

Marian, as Robin had expected, refused. Drawing in her breath, she stuck out her chin and insisted, "I won't go! Robin! We're a family! I won't be separated from you!"

"Please, Marian, do as I say, for once. It's only for a short time, I swear it."

"No!"

Pulling off his cloak and handing it to Much to fold, to make a cushion for Ellen to sleep on, Robin thought it wiser to ignore Marian's protests and tell his gang his plan.

"Right, Lads!" he said, somewhat dispirited, after arguing with his wife. "Since no one's made a move to leave, I might as well tell you my plan."

"I knew it!" Much proclaimed, happily. "I knew you'd have a plan!"

"I'm in. What do you want us to do?" Allan asked. "Poison the king and queen with an extra strong dose of Matilda's sleeping potion? I call dibs on her!"

"Something along those lines, but not quite," Robin answered, brightening. While the faces around him also brightened, all except for Marian's, which was set and determined, Robin told them, "King John believes his life is threatened. When he gets really scared, who does he send for, to protect him?"

"You," Djaq answered, grasping Robin's plan immediately.

"That's right! And no matter what grudges he holds against me, everything's forgiven, when he thinks he needs me to safeguard his life. So, what I want you to do, Lads, is make him think he's under attack."

"Not bein' funny, but you're askin' us to shoot at him, and such, in secret?"

By way of an answer, Robin touched his finger to his nose and winked.

Even more angry now, Marian struggled to her feet. "Robin of Locksley! That was my plan!"

"And a very good one it was, my love," he told her, smugly. "It was only the execution of it that was so bad, trying to do it on your own, when you can't fight, let alone, barely move."

Furious, Marian made a fist and punched him in his stomach. "And how does that feel, since you claim I can't fight?"

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and waddled deeper into the cave, back toward the large smooth boulder that had served as her bed, when she'd been wounded and had nearly died.

Straightening up, Robin heaved a sigh, excused himself, and followed her.


	102. Chapter 102

"Marian? Are you alright?"

Robin's voice, soft and concerned and caressing, made Marian turn all to jelly inside, the way his voice held the power to do. Angry and frustrated at him, she squared her shoulders and remained strong.

"I'm not made of glass, Robin, just because I'm with child. Don't waste your time mollycoddling me. Go back to your gang. They're waiting for you; ready to hang on your every word."

She instantly regretted her poor choice of words, mentioning "hanging" when their friends were ready to risk their necks to obey Robin's commands.

"I mean," she faltered, "they're...they're listening to you all agog, as if every word coming from your lips were golden."

"What is this really about, Marian?" he asked gently, reaching out to tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear, only to have her swat his hand away.

Unperturbed and determined, Robin stared lovingly into her face, waiting for her to lift her eyes and meet his gaze. When she did, their expression was hard and proud, the same expression they had held when she told him they both needed to grow up, accept their lot in life, and that she was indeed going to marry Gisbourne.

"They're waiting for you, Robin," she simply repeated.

Rather than answering, Robin seated himself beside her on the large rock slab without breaking his loving, inquiring gaze into her eyes. He was studying her so intently, so adoringly, she felt herself beginning to melt, which only served to make her more angry. Jutting out her chin, she steeled herself to be strong.

"Now," he said at last, in a tone so warm and intimate Marian had to fight the feeling of butterflies in her stomach, "is this just because I stole you plan, or is there more upsetting you?"

"I'm not upset!" she lied. "Though I am surprised to hear you admit you stole my plan."

"Like I said, it was a clever plan. Let's just hope it works, this time around."

Still stubbornly angry, she accused, "I suppose you have it all plotted out. Who's going to do what, and when?"

"Yes." He waited, not taking his eyes off her, gazing deeply into hers with love and admiration and concern.

It proved too much. His eyes, his face, his body, so incredibly handsome, so close to her, enveloping her with feelings so strong, made her weaken and confess the truth.

"I'm worthless!" she admitted.

In disbelief, he could only ask, "You?"

"You heard the king," she told him, letting him take hold of her hands and stroke their tops with his thumbs. "I'm a fat cow! I was a fool to think I could rescue you on my own, when I can't do anything anymore! I only made things worse, and now, we're all outlaws again, on the run, when I can't run a few steps!"

"You," he told her emphatically, "are not worthless, and we won't be outlaws for long. My men and I will see to that! And you...You have the most important job of all, Marian, sheltering our baby so it can grow and be born."

"I know. I just...it's wrong of me to want to ride and run and move freely, when I can't. I can't even..."

"What?" he asked gently, still stroking her hands.

"I can't...we can't..." Blushing and feeling ashamed, she confessed, "I miss our passion, Robin. Not that I feel like engaging in it now, but I miss it, all the same. You miss it, too, I know you do."

He did, for they were a highly passionate couple, whose lovemaking had been intensely fulfilling for both of them, before the pregnancy had interrupted it.

"I'm glad to wait for you, Marian," he told her, tenderly. "I've done it before, you know." He was grinning now, bringing a smile to her lips. "And you're no cow. You're beautiful.

Unable to resist, he kissed her, slowly, longingly, bending across her extended belly as gently as he could to reach her lips. "Let me make love to you, without doing anything Matilda says we can't," he pleaded, passionate in his love for her.

"How?" she asked, her voice small.

"Just let me kiss you, all over. Nothing sexual, I promise. Just lovingly."

"Here? But, the others are waiting for you, Robin. They need to hear your plans."

Knowing she was right, he breathed a frustrated sigh, still managing a smile. "Alright, my love. Come with me? It was your plan I stole, after all."

Smiling back at him, she let him help her to her feet, and together, hand in hand, they left the cave's innermost chamber to join the others.


	103. Chapter 103

"Not bein' funny or anything," Allan told the gang, as Robin and Marian rejoined them, "but Cupid's back!"

"Robin is not stupid!" Much objected indignantly, not having heard correctly.

"I said Cupid," Allan informed him. "You're the one who's stupid!"

"Stupid? Well, you're...you're...you are revolting! And Cupid? I don't understand!"

Robin laid a restraining hand on Much's arm. "It's alright, Much," he soothed, somewhat cockily. "It's a joke, because I'm an archer, and because I'm so good at making women fall in love with me."

"Excuse me?" Marian asked, lifting her eyebrows at him, and receiving a snicker in return.

"Naw, it's not that," Allan grinned. "It's because of your birthday."

"My birthday?"

"Yeah. October 14th, right?"

Robin nodded his head, wondering what Allan was up to. He didn't have long to wait, because Allan was itching to tell his joke.

"Yeah. Go back from that nine months, exactly, and what do you get?"

"Allan..." Robin warned, not liking the direction this was heading.

"February 14th," Will was quick to calculate.

"Yeah! That's right! The Feast of Saint Valentine! Otherwise known as Love Day," Allan grinned. "Which means, Cupid, your mum and da musta had one helluva Valentine's Day, the year you were born!"

Robin had never thought to calculate his conception, and he didn't appreciate Allan doing it either. "Right, Lads," he began, dismissing the topic. "Work to do! The king's about to discover he needs my protection, with our help! John, with your twisted ankle, I need you to stay here, and protect my family. If anyone shows up to attack-"

"Sorry they will be!" Little John promised, brandishing his staff.

"Good," Robin approved, seriously. He had the utmost faith in John to keep Ellen and Marian safe, while the rest of the gang played their parts at the castle. It was better this way, since John's size and distinctive appearance would give him away, were he to play the role of king's assassin. Better for him to guard the cave, so that Robin wouldn't need to worry about his family.

"Is that alright with you, my love?" Robin asked his wife, courteously including her, though expecting some resistance.

"Of course."

Robin studied Marian, surprised at her compliance. His heart went out to her, when he saw how uncomfortable and tired she looked.

He knew Marian craved adventure as much as he did, but her aching back and swollen feet made her long for the comforts of Locksley Manor. Guessing this, Robin ached for her, and wanted nothing so much as to surround her with luxury, so she could rest comfortably. The fact that she was content to stay away from his mission spoke volumes about her aching body, which only made his heart swell with love and appreciation for her.

His heart also went out to their daughter, peacefully sleeping like the angel he thought her to be, stretched out on his cloak, clutching her lumpy toy horse in her tiny, dimpled hands.

"We'll be home soon, I promise," he spoke to Marian, looking back and forth between her and Ellie.

"Robin, what do I do?" Much asked, nervously, bringing Robin back to his plan.

Seriously, with underlying excitement, Robin spelled out his plan to his gang. The others caught his excitement, and willingly agreed to play their parts to deceive the king.

...

(NOTE: Watching the series, I wondered how the writers came up with October 14 as Robin Hood's birthday, until the other day it struck me that day falls exactly nine months after Valentine's Day, which is kind of cute, if you think about it. Couldn't let that tidbit go unmentioned. Did anybody else figure out that must have been the reason the writers selected October 14 as his birthday?)


	104. Chapter 104

"You were wrong, you know," Will whispered to Allan, stationed outside the king's bedchamber in their "borrowed" guard uniforms, while Robin and Djaq silently executed their mission inside, and Much waited anxiously down the corridor, arrow nocked to his bow. "Nine months from St. Valentine's Day would put Robin's birthday at November 14th."

Allan shrugged. "What can I say?" he laughed. "I wanted to see him squirm. I knew you'd figure out I was bein' funny, and Djaq, but Robin's as stupid as Much when it comes to numbers, 'specially when he's flustered, thinkin' about his da and mum makin' him! And Marian! She'll figure it out, once she's over her indignation at my cheek! No wonder Robin likes to give it to her so much...did you see the look on her face?"

"I think we need to be quiet," Will warned him, trying to listen for any sound that might come from within, where Djaq was playing her part.

"Yeah. Don't want be accused of actin' like Much, not shuttin' up."

Serious again, the two friends waited with strained nerves, trusting Robin would quickly accomplish his mission of scaring the king into needing his "protection."

...

Moving on silent feet with his unique catlike grace, Robin edged closer to the curtained bed containing King John, while Djaq crept to the other side.

Disguised in Marian's new Nightwatchman mask with her scarf concealing the bottom half of his face, Robin had to fight to stay focused on his mission. With every breath he took, he inhaled the fresh scent clinging to his beautiful wife's scarf, intoxicating his senses. He could almost taste the sweetness of her lips, driving him to distraction. It was something he hadn't considered, when choosing his assassin's disguise, a mistake he vowed never to make again.

Years of warfare, first in the Holy Land and later in the forest, battling Sheriff Vaisey and Gisbourne, had coached Robin to master his thoughts. Regaining his focus, he thought, _This is for you, my love...for the life and the love we will have, and for our children. This is for my men, so that they too can live in the open, no longer hiding in shadows. And this is for the people of Locksley, our people, so they can enjoy our care and protection._

Rattling snores issued from behind the heavy bed curtains, not half as loud as Little John's snores, but far louder than those made by Robin's pregnant wife. Pulling back the bed curtains with a swift, fluid movement, Robin discovered the snores came not from the king, but from his companion.

Drunk with wine, John had chosen a coarse, bloated, hairy-armed laundress named Hawise, twice his age, to share his royal bed for the night. Both appeared naked under the sheets. Djaq, usually an expert at masking her emotions, had to open her eyes wide and blink in surprise at the king's unlikely choice.

_And you made my wife think of herself as a "fat cow!" _Robin couldn't help thinking. _I'll enjoy making you pay for that, you unworthy swine._

Unsheathing his dagger, Robin crouched down beside the sleeping king, and placed its cold steel blade against his sovereign's exposed throat.

Adopting the accent of a French peasant, Robin hissed, "Wake up! I want to see the look of fear in your eyes, when I kill you!"

Not only did the king awaken, but so did Hawise. The middle-aged laundress sat bolt upright in bed, displaying her uneven sagging bosoms, enormous belly, and hairy arms. The flesh on the underside of her upper arms jiggled like the jellies on the king's banqueting table. Her piercing screams were quickly silenced by the diminutive Djaq.

Panic stricken King John was hyperventilating so badly, he could not find his voice. His cry for his guards eked from his lips a mere whimper.

But Robin's accented voice rose loud enough to provide the signal for Will and Allan to charge into the royal bedchamber. Swords drawn, the two "guards" rushed to their king's defense, only to make a hasty retreat when "attacked" by the two  
"assassins."

Weeping that all was lost, King John begged for mercy. "Don't kill me!" he cried, pathetically. "Help! Help! Is there no one who can save his king?"

"There is no one!" Robin hissed, in his French accent. "Tonight, I will have my revenge, and spill your blood!"

"Revenge? What have I done to you? Who are you?"

"Prepare to die!"

Hearing his cue, Much shot a steady stream of grey goose fletched arrows through the open door of the chamber.

"He has come!" Robin breathed, appearing awed by the arrows throbbing in the bedposts. "We are doomed!"

To the king's vast relief, the two assassins fled the room, disappearing as quickly as they had appeared.

In a matter of seconds, Robin of Locksley, bow in hand, sauntered into the chamber.

"Locksley!" the king cried from his bed, clapping his hands in delight. "You saved me!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Robin agreed, dropping to one knee. "Someone had to do it. Your guards are useless, it would seem."

"But...but...but I thought you were locked up, in my dungeon!"

Robin cocked a grin. "King John," he said, winningly, "when have you ever known a dungeon that could hold me?"

"I know you," Hawise declared, in her rough, cockney accent. "You're Robin 'Ood!"

For the first time since he'd regained sobriety, John looked at the woman who had shared his bed. He screamed. "Ahh! What is she doing here?"

"You and me 'ad a jolly time last night, Lovey," the oversized woman told him. "Don't you remember?"

"Someone, get her out of here! I am the king!"

"I'll be happy to escort your mistress anywhere you order, Your Majesty," Robin said, hiding his mirth behind a courteous demeanor.

"That hideous creature is not my mistress!"

"It looks like I get to save Your Majesty twice tonight," Robin said, reminding the king of his earlier attack. "Am I pardoned, and my wife as well?"

"Yes! Yes! Just get this hideous moo cow out of my sight!"

"I'll need that in writing, if Your Majesty would be be so kind."

Smiling charmingly, Robin presented the naked king with ink, pen, and parchment. Hastily, King John scribbled a pardon for both Robin and Marian.

"Who tried to kill me, Locksley?" the king asked, as Robin took possession of the parchment.

"I have no idea," Robin lied, throwing a cover over the stinking laundress so he could escort her away.

The laundress, madly in love with Robin Hood ever since she'd seen him "fly" down a rope on his bow from the top of the castle, was beside herself with pleasure at finding herself alone in his company.

"Care for a tumble?" she asked, grinning, revealing a mouth missing most of its teeth.

"Not tonight, thank you," Robin answered. "You're not the only woman I'm escorting home tonight! In fact, there are two lovely ladies waiting for me, to take them home."

Grinning, he couldn't wait to thank his gang for their successful mission, and especially to show Marian the pardon and bring her and Ellie back home to Locksley.

**(Note: Typical for me, I pulled a "Much" and miscalculated the number of months between February and October. Thanks to a guest reviewer, who very kindly pointed out my error. All I can say is, "Sorry!") **


	105. Chapter 105

"Welcome home, Master Robin! Welcome home, Lady Marian!"

Helping Marian while carrying his sleeping child across the threshold of Locksley Manor, Robin was moved by his loyal servants having kept vigil waiting for him and his family to return home, though the hour was fast approaching dawn.

"Good morning!" Robin greeted them brightly, though Marian was so exhausted she could barely stand. "All is well again, I promise you, and I hold a pardon to prove it! Now, isn't it time everybody was in bed?"

Noticing how tired Sarah the cook was, Robin smiled kindly, saying, "Sleep in, everyone. I don't think any of us will be up for breakfast in the morning."

"Thank you, Master Robin!" Sarah beamed, longing to sleep in.

Handing his manservant Thomas his weapons, Robin dismissed Nurse Mattie as well as Marian's maid, sending them to bed. "We'll put Ellie down," he told them, "as well as ourselves. Goodnight."

Somehow, Marian made it up the stairs guided by her husband's strong arm, and fell into bed while Robin left her to place Ellie in her cradle and tuck her in for the remainder of the night.

No sooner had Marian closed her eyes when she felt Robin gently removing her boots and stockings. When she felt his hands on her much too tight trousers, she moaned an objection.

"Love you, but no," was all she could say.

"Shh, it's alright," Robin soothed back to her, with passionate tenderness. "I'm only making you comfortable."

That was indeed his intention, and she closed her eyes again, allowing herself to be adored while her husband partially undressed her.

She felt better without the constricting trousers, and Robin found her completely adorable in his loose, billowing shirt.

The child in her womb had certainly grown these last few weeks, making Marian large and ungainly, but Robin found her beautiful in a wondrous new way.

Shedding his boots, belt, and outer doublet, he climbed into bed in shirt and trousers, then tenderly clasped Marian in his arms. She was on the verge of a deep sleep, but though drowsy, he was still wide awake.

Loving tenderness toward the woman he loved coursed through him, warming him and filling him with exquisite happiness. With the help of his friends, he'd saved her and himself as well, and he felt that nothing could threaten their happiness ever again. Kissing her hair, he felt their baby within her give a series of sturdy kicks.

With eyes still closed, Marian could only smile, as happy and content as Robin.

"Welcome home, Lady Locksley," Robin whispered into her hair. "I love you."

"And I love you," she managed to tell him, slurring the words in her tiredness.

Still holding her, Robin felt overwhelmed with joy, feeling her drift off peacefully to sleep. The passionate lover in him slept, while his protective, sheltering instincts took precedence. It was more than enough for now, filing him with tenderness.

To the soft, rhythmic snores of his well-beloved wife, he gradually let his eyes shut, as he too fell into a blissful contented sleep, just as his village began to awaken to a new day.

~FIN~


End file.
